


This One, Book 2 - Irises in the bloody rain

by theDah



Series: This One [2]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Bakumatsu, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, F/M, Historical Characters - Freeform, assorted other characters - Freeform, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-02-15 17:43:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 119,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2237838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theDah/pseuds/theDah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You said anyone can join up, right?” </p><p>“Yes, but...” Kiheitai recruiter, Yamagata Kyusuke stammered, trying to think of some way – any way - to push this crazy mixed blood pipsqueak to be somebody else’s problem. Unfortunately, without disclaiming his recruitment propaganda, there seemed to be no way out of this mess. </p><p>This One, book two - where our young hero is off to change the world. Unfortunately, revolutions are a tangled mess of motivations and Kenshin will have to grow up the hard way when his path leads him into xenophobic extremist politics, acts of terrorism and to his hopeless first love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A stray looking for home

#  Chapter 14.  A stray looking for home

Somehow, it wasn’t hard to start walking after the first step out of the hut.

_That_ had been a hard one, as for a second it seemed like all his doubts piled up on him, forming an impossible weight on his shoulders. But, after that one single step towards the road leading down the mountain, walking became easier and easier.

And then Kenshin began to feel the anticipation of travelling.  He had always liked to travel and seeing new places and faces.

It had been so long since he had last been _allowed_.

This had to be the _right choice_ \- now they both, he and the spirit, would finally be free to follow their beliefs, to protect the people… they now had a chance to fight and prove their worth.

_‘Yes!’_ Kenta whispered, seemingly sharing Kenshin’s anticipation. It was almost bubbling on its side of the wall.

Kenshin grinned and started walking faster.

They nearly made it all the way to Hagi before stopping for the night.

It was better that way, truly, as they didn’t have much money and staying in an inn would be expensive. It would be practical to save the money where they could. And besides, it was early spring and while on the mountains snow had been covering the ground, even the last remains of it had long melted here in lowlands.

Smiling in satisfaction Kenshin stared at the camp fire he had built. The rice was boiling in the kettle steadily. It was all so familiar, a routine. But he kept expecting to feel Master’s familiar cold presence to pop from the forest, even though he knew that it would be impossible.

The truth was, Kenshin wasn’t used to being alone in the dark.

The food tasted good and he was in good spirits. But when he settled down on his bedroll, everything seemed damp, and he started shivering. Even curling up tighter into his blanked didn’t seem to help. The ground was slightly wet and the coldness seeped through the bedroll.

An owl’s hoot, an odd cracking sound and Kenshin rose up gasping. Why did the hairs on the back of his neck stand? _There was no one there!_

He had checked the ki – and yes, even now, not a single presence could be sensed.

‘We are alone,’ Kenta agreed.

‘But…. why am I feeling scared?’

_Confusion._

The spirit didn’t know either.

_The petting comfort feeling._

It didn’t help much. Still, Kenshin tried to settle down, even though the sleep was hard to come by, and he kept expecting someone to attack his back. _Why? I know better!_

_This doesn’t make sense!_

But, he was also tired and should sleep to be on his best form for tomorrow...

After tossing around pointlessly for a few more minutes, Kenshin gave up on the futile effort and dragged his bedroll to the nearest tree and sat down with his back against it. Then, he took a hold of his sword and cradled it in his arms. _If anything comes, at least this way my sword will be here and ready._

The other good thing he wouldn’t ever admit to, was that through the thin layers of his shirt, Kenshin could feel Kasumi’s top in his pocket.

Then, after a minute of tense silence and subtle readjustments of his seating, Kenta sent him _the petting comfort feel._

Reassured, he was finally able to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

Early the next morning, Kenshin found himself on the busy streets of Choshuu’s capital - Hagi. The sheer number of people felt more than slightly intimidating, but also thrilling. It had been so long since the last time…

However, Kenshin was acutely aware of the reason why he had been stuck in his seclusion on the 12th Master’s mountain, and thus kept his hair firmly covered up.

As Kenshin walked the streets that morning, it slowly begun to come clear that while he wanted to join in the fight against the Shogun, it wouldn’t be that simple. After all, most people here thought badly of foreigners and even though Kenshin wasn’t one… he _looked_ like one.

So how could he convince those Ishin Shishi people that he, too, believed that the Shogunate wasn’t doing a good enough job? That he didn’t care much for foreigners either?

For the matter, how could he even _find_ these Ishin Shishi?

And given that fighting was officially allowed only for the samurai class, how could he – a farmer’s son, who had been sold, and thus thrust outside the system - convince people that he too could be useful?

_Was it even possible?_

As the facts lined up, Kenshin began to feel that joining in the fight for the happiness for the common people would be slightly more difficult that he had first realized. So, he walked around the city, trying to listen in on the people’s conversations, rumors and general talk to get a good handle of the current situation. Master had lately pushed him to consider his options before making choices. And besides, the very thought of directly _asking_ people gave Kenshin shivers.

Also, truthfully, going around and inquiring where he could join in the rebellion against the government seemed not only impossibly hard, but also utterly ridiculous.

As if he wasn’t already self-conscious enough; every time he accidentally bumped into someone or for some reason caught people’s attention, they would glance at his sword, send covert second looks noting his pale skin or the tip of light shaded hair showing under the reed hat… and of course, he heard plenty of amused mutters remarking of kids playing Samurai.

Kenshin knew he was small - _they didn’t have to point it out!_

But in any case, he knew that he didn’t look like a capable fighter. He was young and adults had always thought that children didn’t amount to much. Not that he was a child anymore, but people didn’t necessarily _see_ it.

However, what he managed to piece together from the talk going on the streets…. was _promising_. A lot of people seemed to agree with the “Sonno Joi:” the ideology that said the foreigners should be pushed out and Emperor reinstated to power. He had also heard of some Samurai called Takasugi Shinsaku, who was gathering a paramilitary troop.

However, only few people mentioned it and they were annoyingly careful to keep their whispers low.

In the evening, Kenshin headed out of the town again. He didn’t know how much he would have to travel before he finally would find a group that would accept his sword to their cause. If Hagi didn’t work out, then he would head to another province and travelling was expensive.

Thus, it made sense to save where he could.

For some reason, though, it was hard to fall asleep. After trying to sleep properly with his bedroll near the lingering traces of fire’s warmth, Kenshin gave up on the futile effort and relocated to the nearest tree. _It wasn’t paranoid or stupid to want something to cover his back, right?_

And cradling his sword was just sensible.

After all, he didn’t have the impenetrable defense of Master Hiko watching over his rest anymore… no, it was just him and Kenta.

 

* * *

 

It took a week of listening in on rumors and the talk on the streets, before Kenshin finally heard anything useful about Takasugi Shinsaku and the troops he was building to fight for the “Sonno joi” movement. And everything he did hear made him even more interested. It all sounded just about perfect: the army was called Kiheitai and was recruiting able fighters based on _ability_ , not heritage. So everyone, no matter the class or status could join up if they were good enough.

And if there was one thing Kenshin was sure of, it was the deep conviction of being good enough. The Hiten Mitsurugi _was_ the strongest sword style and even Master had agreed that there was almost nothing left to teach him.

So, now it would be just a matter of finding the people recruiting for Kiheitai, making sure that they were fighting for the same things that Kenshin believed in…

…and then _convincing_ them to accept him.

 

* * *

 

It had taken him two weeks before he finally managed to figure out where Kiheitai did their recruitment for the month. Though many people agreed with “Sonno Joi”, it really wasn’t wise to speak aloud about creating an independent army. So people were careful and didn’t talk about it on the streets.

But, like Kenta had reminded Kenshin, they _could_ hear better than other people with their ki -trick. And though it had been a long time since they had used it, years in fact, it wasn’t hard to remember how: guiding a drop of ki to his ears.

And the best thing?

It seemed that all those years and all that effort spent in training had increased his ability to handle the ki, so they could use it longer and more often!

So, with the help of ki, they managed to piece together that a recruitment officer from Kiheitai was holding a meeting in a remote teahouse near the harbor. And the fighters who were looking to join could go there to ask questions.

That was where Kenshin was now; sitting in the corner, with a hat carefully covering all of his damning hair. People kept giving him a covert looks and his sword had them frowning thoughtfully. But so far, no one had demanded him to leave.

The teahouse was filled with people, many types of fighters - and all of them big and scary looking men. Kenshin wasn’t afraid of the sort, because compared to Master… these men were mostly common rabble. All that muscle mass wasn’t going to gain them any favors when combined with fat, the smell of sake or their generally disreputable and lazy look.

But what made Kenshin wary, was that most of them carried the paired swords.

_They are Samurai?_

Kenshin swallowed, and gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.

While he didn’t particularly care for Samurai anymore, he had realized that not all Samurai believed in the Shogun. Most of them were just serving their lord, and if their lord wasn’t too keen on the government’s ideologies, well. Who was to comment what their men were doing in their private time?

But that wasn’t the important thing, not really. Not compared to the fact that few men in the tea house were clearly peasants or artisans _…_ and some even _merchants_. And there was even a _monk_.

_A monk!_

So it seemed that the rumors were true and there was a real possibility for those of lower castes or of unconventional background to join in. Kenshin felt really relieved when he realized that. The last thing he wanted was for those hostile and distrustful stares to turn into a fight, especially if one of them noticed his hair…

But was Kiheitai willing to recruit truly anyone based on ability, not class or status? And did that include young people… or foreign looking people?

That was _the_ question.

Kenshin huddled deeper into his corner, knuckles white by his tight grip of his katana’s hilt. And then, the sturdy door slid open and in walked a man. And suddenly everyone seemed to turn around, and whispers erupted: “It’s him… that’s the Kiheitai’s officer.”

The officer was tall and lean, but he didn’t look weak. No, he walked like a warrior. A _real_ warrior with dark hair in a topknot and the two swords of the samurai…

Kenshin swallowed weakly - this didn’t look too good.

“I hear you men are interested in fighting?” The officer asked with a loud booming voice, lips curved in an easy smile. He seemed really confident, almost intimidating… but that smile made him somehow appear - friendly?

The crowd answered with enthusiasm. And then came in the barrage of questions, which the officer – Yamagata Kyusuke-san – easily answered. It really did seem that this Kiheitai was what Kenshin had hoped for - an army unit separate from the government that was gathering under Takasugi Shinsaku’s leadership. This Yamagata-san was Takasugi-san’s second in command, apparently. And for recruited soldiers, there would be decent pay, free lodging and training to fight together as a proper army.

And what was the best thing, was that Kiheitai fought for “Sonno Joi.” That was very clear right from the start. Kenshin grinned in sheer relief, as everyone here seemed to agree with his beliefs!

It was a novel feeling.

Finally, he was among people who all believed the same as he did! He couldn’t help but to feel enthusiastic.

It was then that the Buddhist monk rose up to ask a question that had bothered Kenshin from the start; “Is it true that Kiheitai will accept anyone, if they have talent?”

And Yamagata-san grinned and answered with a loud voice: “A good question and one that I have been waiting to hear! So listen up, you all. Yes! Kiheitai will recruit the very best fighters. It doesn’t matter what class you are born to, what do did for your living or where you have been! If you can fight and can prove it to us – we will gladly recruit you!”

This raised cheers from the farmers and merchants and even from the few seedier looking samurai. Also the monk seemed to relax.

Now seemed like the perfect moment to ask…

‘Yes! Let’s go! Ask him!’ Kenta egged him on.

It had to be the _right moment._ But why did his hands shake? Kenshin gripped his sword’s hilt, rose and asked with a raised voice: “You will take _anyone_ willing to fight and prove that they can?”

And then, _everybody_ turned to look at him.

Absolutely everybody.

For some reason Kenshin’s feet didn’t feel steady at all, his hands had a little shake in them and his heart was beating rabbit fast.

_This was it._

So, Kenshin reached up and pulled the thin knot keeping his reed hat in place, and let it fall from his head.

“A foreigner!” “A kid!” “What is this shit?”

“I am not a foreigner and I am not a kid! I want to fight!” Kenshin immediately retorted back, gritting his teeth in annoyance. Why did everybody have to pick up on his size? He knew that he was small! And that foreigner thing…

Yamagata-san seemed to stare at him really hard, and noted the sword on his waist with a frown. Then the officer glanced around the room and stopped for a moment to look at the monk, who for some reason seemed really doubtful. And for a second, Yamagata-san’s ki felt really cold, like Master’s when he had been displeased.   

If Kenshin hadn’t been living with a man whose bad temper had been legendary, he wouldn’t have caught it… what did it mean?

But then Yamagata-san smiled: “Sure kid. If you can prove that you can fight, we will take _even_ you. Now? Any other questions? No? Good. Let’s get going!”

And that was it.

Kenshin exhaled, all the tension seeping out of him in that gust of air. He really wanted to sit down, but people were moving to follow Yamagata-san out of the inn… so now was really not the time for his nerves to abandon him. So, Kenshin steeled his resolve, pushed himself up again and picked up his meager belongings, joining the stream up people.

Sun blinded his unguarded eyes for a minute, but it didn’t matter. He was among men who believed the same as him and this would work! This really, really had to work! After all, the hardest part was over now that Yamagata-san was willing to give him a chance!

‘We can do it!’ Kenta agreed and nudged him encouragingly.

‘Yes!’ Kenshin grinned, and followed the other warriors.

 

* * *

 

They travelled to the outskirts of Hagi, where Yamagata-san had a horse waiting, along with few other Kiheitai soldiers. After a small break and some hurried directions, the new potential recruits were set out to follow the Kiheitai troops out to a less busy mountain road.

Apparently, the main troops were gathered some distance away from Hagi and they would have to walk there. This was perfectly fine for Kenshin, who had always liked travelling and was very fit. However, in the group there were quite a few who were less than happy about the development, mostly some of the seedier samurai, and nearly all of the merchants. It didn’t take a lot sweating on the uphill road for their grumbling comments to increase in volume and snappish temperaments to start boiling.

At the start, Kenshin had travelled in the back, trying to avoid unnecessary attention, but after the complaints had changed their pitch to angry, he, too, had drifted more to the front.

The Kiheitai men didn’t pay any attention to the complainers and drifters, but for more reputable looking recruits travelling at the front, the situation was becoming embarrassing and they began to throw snappish comebacks; “Fucking amateurs, trying to become fighters!” “Fat merchants, leave the fighting for Samurai!” and finally; “If you cannot even walk, why do you even want to join the army?”

That silenced the complainers.

There were about thirty or so people in the group, and most of them had some sort of weapons with them, majority being ordinary single or paired swords. However, there were some spears and few people, like the monk, didn’t carry any weapons at all. Kenshin wasn’t sure if it was because they didn’t own any, or if they just intended to fight with their bare hands.

It was a highly diverse group, but even still… Kenshin desperately stood out. His age, his size, his coloring… with all those recognizable factors, it didn’t make any sense to cover his hair back again. Especially not now that Yamagata-san had accepted him as a potential recruit for testing.

Maybe he should have, though. But then again, it likely wouldn’t have helped all that staring and whispering going on around him.

_Why couldn’t people just shut up?_ Kenshin knew he was different, so did the people have to keep picking on the sore point?  

And why did the people always get stuck on the foreigner thing? He wasn’t a foreigner! He had even clearly told them so back at the teahouse! And why shouldn’t he, too, have the right to join in the “Sonno joi” to drive away the barbarians? He didn’t like the foreigners either! And what was that gossiping about him being too tiny or too young? Or that one half-blind and obnoxious idiot, who opinioned that he looked like a girl?!

He _certainly_ did not look like a girl in any way!  

Kenta had become truly pissed off at the talk, long before Kenshin, in fact. It wanted them to do something about it and was throwing nastier and nastier ideas.

Even though Kenshin was sorely tempted to act out Kenta’s will on a few of the more annoying commenters, he knew he couldn’t let in to the temptation. Not even for a single moment. If he was to fight together with these men, it didn’t make any sense to start a quarrel among them. Especially not before the testing, as they didn’t have any idea how the Kiheitai were to choose the soldiers among the potential recruits.

Besides, the ugly fact was that Kenshin had always had to endure similar opinions, and truly… these men’s taunts and mocking comments weren’t even nearly as bad as what Master had unleashed at him in his moods.

So, Kenshin gritted his teeth and endured it.

After all, the hazing had to stop after the testing and then these people would see him for his merits, not for his looks. It should be so, as mostly these nasty comments seemed to stem from people’s doubts that he could actually wield the sword he carried. _Almost like those two samurai back in Settsu hadn’t believed…_

Few hours after the sunset, they finally made camp beside the road. It was high in the mountains, shaded by trees and harsh mountain slopes. Kenshin surveyed the site, trying to decide where he should make his camp; perhaps he could even join in with some of the friendlier looking men…

_Ah, actually, maybe I should just pick my own spot at the outskirts._ After all, Kenshin hadn’t slept with so many people near him, not in six years. Not since the slave caravan, actually… he inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes, trying to chase away the half- forgotten memories.  

Kenta pushed soothing emotions to him, doing its best to calm him down.

After a few moments to gather his nerves, Kenshin dragged his belongings to a sturdy pine tree shadowing the main camp site and started uneasily going through his evening routine: setting a fire, spreading his bedroll and cooking a practical meal of rise and dried meat. Though the actions were long practiced and methodical, somehow Kenshin just couldn’t calm down.

People kept staring at him, clearly surprised to see any sort of competence from him.

How _annoying._

It didn’t help that he wasn’t tired at all. That fifteen mile trek up to the mountains hadn’t been anything to him, and Kenshin was acutely aware that travelling alone he could have gone a lot further and faster. It was odd, really. These men around him were taller, stronger and older than him… but put together, they walked ridiculously slowly, like a pack of turtles.

Logically thinking, he could understand it somewhat – they had to set the travelling pace according to the slowest of the group and few of the recruits were, ah… pathetic?

But then again, didn’t being in a group mean that they were in this together, that no one was left behind? And they really couldn’t be that bad, could they? And there _was_ going to be an intense training at the army, so maybe after some work these men could become good fighters?

And _everyone_ here believed the same as him, that they needed to help the common people. That they too should fight for the betterment of the country, to drive away the foreigners destroying the country and overthrow the incompetent Shogun.

He was not alone in his belief, not anymore.

The thought comforted him some.

Tomorrow… tomorrow, they would get to the Kiheitai training grounds. There they would be tested and the best were to be accepted to the troop. Tomorrow he and Kenta could show all that they, too, could fight and _earn_ everyone’s respect.

‘Yes.’ Kenta whispered.

With that, Kenshin clutched his sword tighter in his arms and leaned his back against the tree. The spring night sky was clear and beautiful.

 

* * *

 

At noon they were climbing deep into the mountain passes. The road was precariously narrow and quite a few of the yesterday’s complainers had called it quits already. 

“Finally some quiet.” One particularly smart-mouthed Samurai close to Kenshin had remarked out loud, earning few laughs from the others. Another added in ill-humor; “The walk is already shedding some fat!” Which, of course, raised even more laughter.

Kenshin didn’t know what to think of this humor at someone’s expense that seemed to be popular among the men. To him it seemed very disrespectful, and how could men of such attitude learn to work together? But then again, their mean humor had a grain of truth; the Kiheitai was supposed to recruit only the best.

So, in that respect, it made sense that people who couldn’t even walk for a day or two wouldn’t make the cut. This crude early selection didn’t make Kenshin very worried… well, maybe.

A _little_ bit.

If Kenshin was perfectly truthful with himself, he didn’t have a lot of diverse fighting experience to accurately gauge his skill level against the others. Kenshin had never fought against anyone but Master, who was on a whole another level and thus bad for making comparisons. Oh, and then there had been those two Samurai in Settsu, but they hadn’t even been proper fighters. So, where did this leave him to stand in reality?

A tiny seed of doubt rose in Kenshin; perhaps he wouldn’t be good enough either, maybe the better fighters here were like Master – an impassable wall to clash against.

_No. I am good enough. I must be good enough. Because if I am not… what will I do? Return in shame to Master? Try to find another group?_

_No, giving up simply isn’t an option,_ Kenshin resolved – _this will be it_. 

The group came to a stop at a small clearing next the mountain road. There was another group of men waiting for them, one of them stood out in particular; a very lean man with short hair. He had a very distinctive presence in ki and he was looking after a particularly fine horse.

“Here we are!” Yamagata-san called out loudly from ahead of the group.

_Here? This was Kiheitai?_ But the rumors and talk on the street had said that it was a proper army, one that was hundreds of men strong, Kenshin stared in disbelief.

Yamagata-san dismounted and walked to greet to short-haired man; “Takasugi! Here are the newest recruit hopefuls.”

The man answered to the greeting easily, and then looked the recruits over and nodded thoughtfully; “A good group.”

_Hey… wasn’t Takasugi the name of Kiheitai’s commander?_ Kenshin narrowed his eyes. _Oh, so this is the man I really, really need to impress._ After all, it was only logical; if the highest ranked man in the troop agreed to his recruitment, no one could say anything against it.

With that thought in mind, Kenshin tried to get a good read of the commander; a confident, able and controlled ki with a pointed edge of coldness to it. Practiced easy stance, and the man kept an eye to his surroundings… so, definitely an experienced swordsman. But none of those qualities was important for ensuring his acceptance.

So what influenced this Takasugi-san? Did he hate the foreigners, and would be quick to assume Kenshin was one? Did the commander believe only in physical strength? Could he see beneath Kenshin’s youth to the wellspring of ability? Would he even be given a chance to show his skills?

Yamagata-san was talking to the commander with a fast clip and kept gesturing. At one time, the officer even pointed at him, and then both men looked at him.

More talking, and Takasugi’s kept frowning.

Kenshin swallowed, it really didn’t look good.

Among the group of potential recruits whispers started to fly, joined by quiet remarks and few pointed barking laughs. Next to Kenshin, the monk noticed it and tensed, opening his mouth to say something -

 “Alright. The break is over! Gather around, gather around! Good!” Yamataga-san shouted and the men hastened to obey. The shared excitement flowing in the air stifled Kenshin’s oppressing fear of being denied. “We will test you here! Those that are accepted move to the side, those that are not… are free to leave whenever they want.”

People laughed at the cutting remark, but some of them were clearly almost as uneasy as Kenshin. However, he wasn’t given a chance to stew in his doubts longer, for Yamagata loudly continued; “We will test you in a simple spar. You tell us how you fight and we will choose a good opponent for you from the Kiheitai troops we have present.”

The soldiers who were with Takasugi rose to stand after those words. And Kenshin couldn’t help the nervous gulp; they looked tough, very fit and entirely professional.

“So, who wants to go first?” Yamagata asked with a grin.

 

* * *

 

The testing proceeded as promised; the people would step out, announce with what they fought and then they would spar with a Kiheitai soldier that rose up to answer the challenge. The fighters used a diverse display of styles, and most of the bouts were almost equal in skill level. However, the level of skill on show… when compared to Master, it was just pathetic.

Kenshin felt more and more confident as the fights processed. _I have been sparring against Master for years, and I have held out my own. I can do this. I really can!_

Kenta nudged him eagerly, seemingly agreeing with him completely.

But always before Kenshin could gather his courage, someone else would step out to the ring for fight.  Like the monk, whom he had kept noticing earlier had been accepted into the ranks without a hitch - he had fought without weapons, just using his fists and legs. It had been a very interesting style to observe, if not for anything else – then for its sheer unusualness.

Then, before Kenshin even noticed, there was no one else left but him. The expectant looks pushed him into action, and he stepped forward and gripped his sword tightly. It seemed ridiculous to announce his preference when it was so blatantly obvious.

Among the Kiheitai soldiers, no one was volunteering to for the fight, and for some reason they kept arguing amongst themselves.

Kenshin shuffled his feet, unsure what the problem was. Yamagata-san had promised him this chance. So, why wasn’t anyone coming to fight with him?

_How can I even prove my worth if no one is willing to face me?_ Kenshin thought, and shifted his weight a bit.It was really awkward to stand there alone.

“What’s the matter?” Takasugi-san called out from the sidelines, clearly displeased.

“It’s just a kid! I can’t hit kids, my wife would kill me!” A shout rose to answer from among the soldiers. And somehow, that broke the dam and suddenly everyone was shouting to Takasugi-san; “Who let him in here… a kid playing a Samurai!” “A foreigner trying to join in!” “Looks like a little girl!” “It wouldn’t be right to fight the boy. I didn’t join in the army to beat kids!” “The boy can’t be more than ten! Look how small he is!”

With the last one, Kenshin’s temper finally snapped and he couldn’t help but to retort back; “I am not a kid! I am thirteen and I can fight! Just let me try!”

Then Takasugi-san just raised his hand, and the soldiers fell silent. Then he questioned with a bland voice, keeping his tone calm; “Not a single one of you is willing to test the boy? Is that what you are saying?”

There were distinct amount of nods in the crowd, and then Takasugi-san was looking directly at Kenshin, with the force of his personality for the first time aimed at him; “And boy… you want to fight? To join in Kiheitai?”

Kenshin steeled himself, and nodded just once; “Just give me a chance. I can prove that I can fight!”

The commander nodded thoughtfully, stroked his chin once and said; “Alright boy. I can understand your need to prove your skills. If no one here will fight you, I will.” And with that, Takasugi-san stepped out towards him and drew his sword. And suddenly Kenshin realized that the commander was also a notably _young_ man. Maybe in his early twenties, or so. Even so, he felt dangerous. His ki felt cold and focused – just like a snake ready to strike.

It reminded Kenshin of Master, and he gulped – privately fearing that he might hava picked a lot tougher fight than he had even realized. Swallowing his unease, Kenshin drew his sword too. _I hoped for a chance to impress this man… well, this is it._

The crowd surrounding them fell into a stunned silence, and then in their midst rose agitated low murmur.

Kenshin pointedly ignored it, and focused entirely on Takasugi-san, who had stopped at a few feet’s distance. The commander’s stance was rock solid; there wasn’t a single opening to exploit.

_So, I just need to create one._ Kenshin resolved, and started to circle the man.

Takasugi followed his movements, but didn’t attack… _so it will be up for me to make the first strike, huh?_

_And if I can’t force an opening in the first charge, he can decide to call it quits. So, everything will depend on this. And if I only have one chance, I will need to give it my best._

‘Let’s do this.’ Kenshin thought to Kenta.

‘Yes! Let’s use it!’ And the spirit leaned against the wall, slipping through the cracks and Kenshin felt the coldness spread evenly into his side. He grinned at the sensation, sprinted forward at his best speed and charged directly for an upper kesarigi cut to the shoulder.

Takasugi managed a parry - _no matter. The defensive stance is good and it was an obvious starting stroke._ Kenshin dodged lighting fast to the left side, left vulnerable by the hasty parry and there it was, an opening in the stance – already!

Taking it, Kenshin bared his teeth in sheer exhilaration.

_Dammit!_

Just in time Takasugi managed another frenzied save, the parry barely in place to stop his advance. It didn’t matter, because the man was badly out of balance and Kenshin needed to press his advantage, while he still had it. And yes, _THERE!_

It was like the time stopped.

Takasugi-san was frozen still with Kenshin’s blade on his jugular, the fine sharp steel a hair’s width away from piercing the skin.

“Yield. I yield.” The man panted, and his eyes flown wide open in sheer stunned alarm.

Kenshin grinned, and for a second savored that stunned expression. And then, proudly, he let the blade fall from the Kiheitai Commander’s throat.

“So do I pass?” He couldn’t help but to ask.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I have absolutely no idea how Kiheitai recruiting was done. It was practically impossible to find legit sources of. So, please forgive me for the anime-styled scene. Also, I feel so sorry for Kenshin. He is passionately acting for his beliefs and stepping straight into nest of vipers. (God, he is so young and naïve. Half the time, I wish I could shake some sense in him. Well… that will be coming in time.)


	2. Tug o war

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I have gotten bunch of wonderful reviews, all urging me to post more of this. Thank you for your support. However, the beta-reading has been slow and only the first third of this chapter has been betaed by Chie in 2014. However, over a year is awfully long wait… So, for those that are curious about the story and don’t mind typos and other horrible mistakes a highly dyslexic ESL noobie writer makes, this is for you.

 

##  **Chapter 15. Tug o war**

Since he had defeated the Kiheitai’s commander in a spar, Kenshin naturally passed the muster. To make things even sweeter, Takasugi seemed impressed with him and curiously inquired about the name of his sword style. Without a second thought, Kenshin answered, “Hiten Mitsurugi.” And for some reason, the commander startled slightly, before thoughtfully muttering, “so, that’s what it was.”

Not long after, the new recruits were ushered to pack up the make-shift camp and head further into the mountains.

They arrived to the official permanent training grounds in the early evening. From the first glance it was clear that the Kiheitai troop was exactly as promised; a proper paramilitary troop with nearly two hundred men residing in the camp. According to Yamagata-san, the men were constantly moving in and out with patrols, and more recruits were joining them weekly from all corners of the Choshuu’s provinces Suo and Nagato.

For Kenshin, it seemed that his performance in the test had gained him the approval of the other recruits – albeit grudgingly.  A few curious ones had even approached him with questions about his swordsmanship. Kenshin didn’t really know what to think about this sudden change of attitude, but he had answered the questions to the best of his knowledge. However, after they settled for the night at the main camp… the looks and whispers started flying anew.

It was getting really annoying.

_ How should I even react to all these new people and their sudden interest? _ Kenshin thought in exasperation, but in the end, he did as he had always done when in doubt: withdrew and listened from the sidelines.

Yamagata-san had told them that their training would begin tomorrow, and then they would be informed of the rules, told about the pay, about further sleeping arrangements, the meals… all these essential things that they needed to know. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t feel so much of an outsider.

Sleep was hard to come by, and as there weren’t any convenient trees to sleep against, Kenshin just curled around his blade and clutched Kasumi’s top hidden in his sleeve. Even the memento didn’t help him to settle down. There were just so many people around him… and none of them felt safe.

Even in the crowd, Kenshin felt utterly alone. Kenta tried to comfort him, but it wasn’t much help.

After what felt like hours of tossing and turning, Kenshin finally fell into a fitful sleep.  

 

* * *

 

The days rolled by.

Kenshin noticed that when it came to fulfilling requirements and regular routines demanded of the soldiers, the army life was  _ easy _ . It was just doing what was asked of him, obeying the terse commands, ignoring and enduring the endless stream of taunts, and training for hours and hours every single day. To  _ that _ rhythm Kenshin had settled without problems.

However the difficult part was ignoring the creeping shadow of loneliness.

Everyone around him was just so  _ unapproachable,  _ really. No one wanted to  _ talk _ to him. Well, not that Kenshin had exactly tried talking to the other soldiers, either. But what could he talk to them about? It wasn’t like he had anything in common with them, except for his beliefs and the sword!

And speaking of swordsmanship, while people had initially been interested in Hiten Mitsurugi, it seemed to have been just an idle curiosity and had passed after the first few days. Now, he was left alone and was, at most, the topic of the other soldiers’ crude gossip.

This social seclusion was really beginning to get to Kenshin, and he hadn’t been able to sleep properly in weeks. It was just impossible to relax with all these people around him. So perhaps it wasn’t a surprise that his old nightmares had returned. To combat them, Kenshin and the spirit had been attempting to train to the point of exhaustion with their ki during the common training exercises, with very little success.  

However, one evening the tedium broke when Yamagata-san came to talk to him during the evening meal.

Kenshin had once again retreated to brood in his own corner of the camp, not in the mood to listen to the other men’s crude humor and the constant mean-spirited gossip, the popular topic of which was a certain scrawny redhead kid. With the things being as they were, who could fault him for thinking that it was better to be alone and avoid the crowd ?

“So how has the training been?” Yamagata-san inquired with a friendly smile, as he stopped by Kenshin’s camp.  

“Easy.” Kenshin replied moodily. And it was true – the sad fact was that he had been training a lot harder than this for most of his life.  Really, his swordsmanship training at the moment was getting  _ ridiculous _ . No one was willing to spar with him anymore, not after he had easily defeated the first boastful men.

So lately, Kenshin had been confined to very limited training possibilities.

_ Just how exactly am I supposed to get better if I can’t even get any fighting experience?  _ Not that anyone here was even remotely a good challenge, but still… training alone meant only basic kata or simple ki-training with Kenta for efficiency and endurance. Sure it was useful for faster speed and higher jumps, more strength in arms – but it was  _ boring. _

“So I hear.” Yamagata-san nodded, and smiled encouragingly; “This style of yours was called Hiten Mitsurugi?”

“Yes.” Kenshin tersely replied, already disappointed. It seemed that Yamagata-san was just another of the curious ones. Just another person after information about the rare style, and when his whim was satisfied, he too would leave. Just like the others. Kenshin sighed.  _ Why doesn’t he just get to the point already and leave me alone? _

“I have never heard of it.”

_Oh yes, just like the rest._ _I must have explained this at least a million times…_ Kenshin huffed, even though he knew it had been only a handful. It was just that he really didn’t care for repeating himself. Especially, when all it ever amounted to was even more disappointment.

“Not many have. It only ever has two practitioners; the Master and the apprentice. It’s a really old style, and was designed to pit one against many.” Kenshin grumbled the shortest explanation he could, hoping the officer would get the hint.  

“So, I gather that you are the apprentice? I mean… you are so young. Where is your Master? Why is he not with you?”

Kenshin shot a furtive look out of the corner of his eye. Next to him, Yamagata-san had crouched down to a more conversational pose and seemed thoughtful, and more importantly, genuinely  _ interested. _

Kenshin frowned, feeling at crossroads. On one hand, he really didn’t have any wish to share his personal quarrel with Master with a stranger. But it also didn’t seem tactful to deny the answer from his superior. And the fact was… no one had asked about Master before. So hesitantly, Kenshin explained, “Master and I… we had a disagreement. He didn’t want to join any side of the conflict. But I… I felt like we could help the people better by joining the cause. So... I left.”

“Huh. So that’s why.”

A silence settled between them, the only sound being the crackle of campfire. And then, Yamagata-san’s ki warmed up a shade, and Kenshin glanced at the officer covertly.

Yamagata-san had a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth.

“I am glad that you did. You are really talented with the sword. With your skills we will have a better chance to make a difference.” Then the older man rose to stand, and patted him on the shoulder, approvingly. Just like Kenshin, too, was just another comrade.

Kenshin froze in bewilderment, and watched in stunned silence as the officer left.  _ Yamagata-san accepted me? My reasons for fighting? And he thinks that I will be valuable to the Kiheitai? _

The feeling that rose in Kenshin’s chest felt like the best thing that had happened to him since leaving the mountain. And then, a true smile rose to tug his lips. Even Kenta felt happier than in ages.  _ Everything’s going to be okay. It really will be! _

 

* * *

 

After that, Kenshin’s life as a soldier began to slowly improve.

This could mostly be attributed to Yamagata-san, and his new habit of stopping by to talk with Kenshin every now and then. Somehow those few minutes of attention made all the difference. And even if he didn’t have much in common with the older man, the officer’s friendly demeanor and inspiring words worked wonders to ease Kenshin’s soul-crushing loneliness.  

However, the issue of his training continued to cause grief.

While the Kiheitai troops performed mostly group fighting exercises, Kenshin fit in those like a square peg into a round hole. Sure, he could and did obey the orders, but his abilities simply outshone everyone else’s by miles. The lieutenants had noted this, and had begun to direct him for covering the retreats.

But during the regular group drills, Kenshin was left to train by himself. It was like despite his best wishes, Kenshin simply wasn’t  _ fit _ to be a soldier.

One night, Kenshin finally managed to gather his nerve and complained about this to Yamagata-san. And after a pause, the older man looked directly into his eyes and noted calmly, “for those with skill, there will always be a place.”

Just as Kenshin was about to protest, the officer raised his hand slightly, just enough to quell the starting words. Then he continued thoughtfully, his eyes piercing, “but if it happens that you are too good to fight in an simple army unit… for the cause, we can always find other uses for your talents.”

 

* * *

 

It was nearly two months later, when the chance finally came.

The night before, Yamagata-san had pulled Kenshin aside and remarked to him, “Takasugi-san will be entertaining a visitor tomorrow. If you play your cards right and manage to impress him… something might just come out of it.”

Kenshin hadn’t needed to ask more. The officer’s hooded gaze and unusually serious demeanor told him enough – this could be his chance to get into the thick of things.

_ Finally. _

So far Kiheitai hadn’t seen any fighting. Just sitting in the training camp wasn’t doing anything to ensure the common people’s happiness. No, this would be a step forward that Kenshin couldn’t let pass him by.

The next day showed the most miserable excuse for summer weather; a cold drizzling rain, blowing straight from the sea. Kenshin’s unit was doing basic drills on the training posts alongside with newcomers. Most of the men were practicing their charging strikes either with spears or the bayonet of the few new western rifles Takasugi had managed to scrounge for their use. The intention behind the exercise was to prepare the units to use this new combat style so they would be capable of facing the foreign troops on equal ground.

Of course, Kenshin hadn’t been participating in these drills since the very first days. It simply wasn’t practical to have him doing the grunt work, especially considering his slight build and highly specialized skill-set. So, just like usual, he was on the side, practicing on controlling his ki more efficiently.

In a way, he didn’t mind having to share the training ground with so many others. It allowed him to pretend he was one of them, a soldier like the rest. However, Kenshin really could have done without the group of three newcomer samurai staring at him, not even bothering to be subtle about it.

Worse, the idiots with their fancy paired swords and pointless bravado hadn’t yet learned about him from their peers and kept picking on him about his age and appearance with mean jokes and mocking words. “Ha. The kid brought his own sword.”“Hey kid, I’ll give you a ryu if you manage to cut the training post in half.”

Kenshin scowled, annoyed by the reminder and the men’s disbelief about his abilities.  _ Have they never met a dangerous and capable, if somewhat small man? _

But that final remark, it had some promise. After all, the pay day for sixth month hadn’t arrived yet. As a child of truly poor origins, Kenshin valued having the safety money provided. Besides, a full golden ryu was worth a  _ lot _ . Perhaps he would have the time…

_ Oh damn!  _ There was finally Takasugi-san’s familiar ki -presence and accompanying it… another. A well-defined aura that felt notably carefully controlled.  Most likely a talented swordsman, Kenshin surmised and glanced subtly at the road overseeing the muddy training ground. And there they were – Takasugi and a finely dressed Samurai holding an umbrella.

Yes,  _ definitely _ the opportunity Yamagata-san had told him about earlier.

_ Something impressive, huh? _ Out of all the moves Kenshin had in his repertoire, some flashier than others… the Ryutsuisen was definitely his favorite. Then again, there was the matter of those three idiots and their money. How sweet would it be to force them to eat their mocking words? But simply cutting through the post was so easy…

_ Hmm… choices, choices. _

On the road, Takasugi-san was looking at him with a pointed frown, signaling for him to hurry it up.

Kenshin bit his lip in indecision, but then grinned as the idea came to him and it was just about perfect; unusual and showy, just as Hiten Mitsurugi’s improvements to the basic strikes usually were, plus it fulfilled the parameters of the challenge.

‘Yes. That will do.’ Kenta agreed enthusiastically.

_ ‘Just like you.’ _ Kenshin smiled, for once approving of the spirit’s evil sense of justice. A moment’s intense focus and Kenshin opened his senses to let Kenta to flow to his side of the wall, and then directed the ki to the blade…

And  _ cut _ .

The quick draw strike of Souryusen cut through the thick log like it was melted rice paste, and the follow up, a solid hit by the iron sheath threw the upper half of the post off in a rather impressive curve. Kenshin exhaled, and closed his eyes to enjoy the gasps of surprise from the crowd behind him. He just  _ loved _ impressing people.

However, even though the look of naked astonishment on the three idiot’s faces quite likely served to make his day, money was money. Expectantly Kenshin held out his hand and deadpanned, “my ryo, please.”

 

* * *

 

When the letter had arrived a bit over a month ago, the man most commonly known as Katsura Kogora had been  _ perplexed _ .

His affairs in the Capital kept him notoriously busy and his old friend Takasugi Shinsaku was well aware of the fact. But here was a letter asking Katsura to take the time for a personal visit to Hagi? And instead of a proper explanation, there was only a postscript saying there was something interesting the man wished to show him?

_ What on earth? _

Even the best of his guesses wouldn’t shed more light on the mystery, other than that it must have something to do with the new paramilitary force Takasugi had been building from a scratch, Katsura decided. But the wording of the letter was definitely unusual, especially considering by whom it was written. Takasugi was an energetic, battle-loving and boastful man. Normally when he wrote, he would express his meaning clearly, if with a bit too much flourish. But not this time.

Now, if the handwriting wasn’t so achingly familiar and their usual code words hadn’t matched, Katsura would have suspected a fraud. If only! That would have been a far  _ simpler _ matter to take care of. No, this was just Takasugi being tight-lipped to an outrageous degree.

_ “… take time and visit me in the province. I have something here that will catch your interest for sure.”  _ Well, if nothing else, his friend’s claim had been correct – Katsura  _ was _ curious.

So even if it took him the better part of a month, Katsura wrangled his affairs into order and rode out to Hagi. The journey was long and hideously uncomfortable in the middle summer’s heat wave. So much that Katsura was almost ready to disclaim all ties to his boyhood comrade – only thing holding his patience was that fact that Takasugi hadn’t ever betrayed him.

Of course, when he finally reached the mountain training camp, the weather was also miserable… but in an entirely different manner. The pouring rain would have been pleasant change if not for its coldness. And then Katsura was paraded around the camp, forced to suffer through hours of watching the Kiheitai troop’s prowess. But while the soldiers and their new western influenced training regiment were appealing and having firsthand knowledge about them could be useful for furthering the Ishin Shishi’s agenda in the Capital.… it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already expected, knowing Takasugi.

_ So why was I invited here?  _ Katsura frowned and glanced at the man walking by his side. Takasugi was in good spirits, but he looked leaner, even  _ gaunt _ compared to the last time. The insidious sickness, tuberculosis, was eating the man’s vitality and there was nothing anyone could do about it.  _ And the wet weather certainly isn’t helping matters, either… _

“That one.” Takasugi said suddenly and nodded towards the training field, directing Katrura’s gaze to a lone child among the soldiers. The boy was tiny, couldn’t be more than ten years old. And  _ red _ hair?  _ A sword? _

A  _ foreign swordsman _ among Takasugi’s rifle troops?

And then the child sliced through the ten inch thick oak post like it was  _ nothing _ . A feat that even Katsura for his lifelong swords-training and famous prowess with the blade could never even imagine of  _ trying _ to attempt. At that moment, Katsura Kogoro realized that here was exactly what he needed in Kyoto.

“How about that?” The Kiheitai commander asked with a smug tone, clearly pleased at his surprise.

“Takasugi…”

To further their shared political agenda, to weaken the Shogun’s government, they  _ needed _ to clear out key players in the game. In these last few years, Katsura had had few assassinations conducted by some of his samurai comrades, but it had been always messy business. It was a tricky dilemma. A lone fighter was always at the risk of failing, but a group was highly visible and often too slow.

Worse, those clumsily carried out amateur attempts failed to give out the  _ proper _ message.

No, Ishin Shishi needed a fighter capable of cutting down every one in his path and then to disappear in the darkness, without anyone being the wiser. They needed a killer capable of instilling the ungodly terror for every single cowardly heart of Shogun’s backers.

“I know you saw him with those wide open eyes of yours.”

_ An Assassin – that’s what we need. _

“That boy…”

_ And here, in Takasugi’s army, is a boy capable of doing the deed. _

“I want him to come to Kyoto with me.” Katsura uttered, still staring at the impossibility before him. The tiny wisp of a boy was talking to the other soldiers and was holding his hand for money..?

_ Were they gambling? _

Takasugi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared pensively at the troops training for a good long while and then headed to the main camp’s direction. “Hmmm. Come, walk with me.”

“Wasn’t this what your letter hinted at?” Katsura finally asked, more than slightly perplexed.

“I came across the kid early this spring. My second in command, Yamagata Kyusuke, was doing recruitment in Hagi. He had to pick up the boy, or risk alleviating the lower class recruits. After all, we boast that we will accept everyone if they have the ability.” Takasugi said, spitting to the ground.

Takasugi’s sickness  _ was _ acting up, or more likely – progressing faster than had they estimated. Katsura judged from the amount of blood hitting the soil.  _ Damn. _

“Now, Kyusuke had a problem; he had absolutely no intention of actually recruiting the boy, but he couldn’t dismiss him outright either. So the smart man he is, Kyosuke thought to bring the kid along with others and then to help along the kid’s sad, but all together expected failure with some selective choices of opponents. The problem was, not a single one of my soldiers wanted to have a go at the kid. But the little bugger insisted.” Takasugi sighed and after a minute pause, continued, “I could respect that will, so I dueled with him.”

While this all was very interesting _ … what are you getting at? _ Katsura raised his brow in silent question. After all, Takasugi wasn’t a sentimental man.

“The kid beat me easily. It was like fighting against a lightning. I couldn’t see a thing, didn’t have time to react. The kid had a blade at my throat in seconds.”

“Truly?”

If the kid could easily outmatch Takasugi, who was one of the better swordsmen Katsura had ever met, he would be  _ perfect _ .

“Yeah. Couldn’t help but to ask the name of the kid’s sword school. It’s Hiten Mitsurugi.”

“Oh…”

_ That _ changed things, Katsura frowned, disappointed.  _ Or does it? _

The Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu was the sword style that was practically legendary in the southwestern Japan. It was made famous especially in Hagi by the Old man Niitsu, the 12th Hiko Seijuuro. Katsura and most of his peers were brought up with stories on how the Master had settled the fiercest quarrel in the century, one that had been on the verge of exploding into a full blown civil war, by single-handedly bringing the powerful Ki-clan to the heel.

And knowing to exactly  _ who _ that clan was directly connected by blood… The old man Niitsu must have had ego and cunning to match his legendary fame. It was those stories that had pushed Katsura in his youth to hunt down the rest of the myths and rumors mentioning the Hiko Seijuurous. It was the reason why, even now, he kept an ear out for the whispers of “White Death”.

The Hiten Mitsurugi a style that was rumored to be passed down only once a generation for ensuring the peace for the common people. It’s legacy backed uninterrupted all the way from the era of civil wars. The strength of the style was unrivaled, the reputation flawless… it was universally admired in every story. And it was something that Katsura, as a student of history had  _ always _ wanted to witness…  

“Yeah, that.”

…and here it was, in the form of a  _ mixed _ blood child.  _ How on earth had that happened? _

“The kid wants to help the people, to create a world where people are treated fairly. A naïve child, truly. But he has a good heart and skilled arm.” Takasugi said and again spat on the ground, like even the words had turned bitter in his mouth.

“I know what you need in Kyoto. Those failed and badly executed assassinations are bad for Ishin Shishi’s reputation and don’t work as they should. You need someone skilled and the boy would be perfect for it. So, I ask you – are you willing to stain the sword of Mitsurugi with this? Are you willing to drown that kid in blood?”

Katsura frowned and considered the matter. He believed in his work and the Ishin Shishi’s cause, there was no question about it. Ever since his teacher’s death in the hands of Bakufu, he had awakened to more radical measures to gain the leverage they needed. The Shogun’s government was its last days. If they could push enough, play the game right… they had the chance to end the tyranny, push Japan into a new age and ready it to face the foreigners in their own terms. But for that…

“Yes.”

_ For the cause I can sacrifice even the legendary blade of Mitsurugi. For the new era… there truly isn’t anything I wouldn’t give up. _

“I don’t like the thought of putting the kid into that work. I truly don’t. I would prefer to keep him here, let him grow and use him with the rest of Kiheitai militia when they are needed. But the kid is willing and has been getting more restless by the day. So, I will let you talk to him, but it’s up to you to convince him.”

 

* * *

 

Sometime after the training session’s end, Yamagata-san came to fetch Kenshin. Apparently Takasugi-san wished to have a word. 

_ So, does this mean that the visitor was impressed with me and wants to meet? Maybe they have a better use of my talents?  _ Kenshin pondered wishfully, as he crossed the muddy field.

The commander’s housing was a large but simple wooden structure at the sidelines and it had clan signs and Kiheitai’s banner decorating the doorway. Stepping inside, Kenshin’s eyes immediately zeroed onto Takasugi-san’s visitor, the unknown Samurai in fine clothes and the paired blades at his side. The man’s presence just oozed power and charisma and Kenshin couldn’t help but to feel impressed. 

_ Yes, he is definitely someone important. _

Sitting by the wall, idly plunging the strings of his lute, Takasugi nodded to him and barked a terse introduction, “Kenshin, this is Katsura Kogoro. The head of Choshuu province’s Ishin Shishi.”

The new Samurai didn’t turn, just continued to watch out from the window.  

Kenshin nodded slowly, feeling somewhat unnerved by their behavior.  _ Am I supposed to do something? Just what is going on? _

It seemed like an eternity rolled by as he waited in silence, shifting the point of his balance from one leg to another as a way of driving the nervous energy somewhere. But then, the new man, this Katsura turned to look at him sharply and spoke, “I’m going to be straight with you.”

His expression was serious and utterly focused on Kenshin, like he was trying to see something. That intense gaze was eerily similar to the sheer  _ pressure _ his Master had exhibited during important spars and the tiny hairs at the back of Kenshin’s neck stood up, shivers running down his spine.

“Are you willing to kill people?”

Kenshin’s heart skipped a space and his eyes flew wide open with realization;  _ this is it. _

“There is no point in mincing words. I will need you to kill people for me. In order to create a new world, we must first destroy the old one. It’s not pleasant, but it needs to be done.”

Of course Kenshin had known that he would need to kill people, he had even been prepared for it. The principles of Hiten Mitsurugi stated that its power should be used to ensure the happiness of common people and to attain that goal, his journey had brought him here. But…

_ Putting it plainly like that _ … Kenshin inhaled sharply, and for the first time it didn’t feel like they were speaking of might-be’s and eventualities, but of actual reality. Even Kenta was stunned into silence.

“You have said that you want to use your skills to protect the people. I am asking, if I can borrow those skills. Will you kill people in order to create a new world? Will you do it?”

This man, this Katsura Kogoro, was the leader of the Choshuu’s Ishin Shishi, a movement that wanted to further the goal of “Sonno Joi.” It was a cause that Kenshin agreed would bring better life to the common people. It would help the innocents much better than Master’s way of using Hiten Mitsurugi had ever had… a _ nd this man is asking me to lend my strength for that purpose. _

How could he refuse? It was all Kenshin had wanted to do since leaving the mountain and he  _ couldn’t _ let this chance pass by him. Not even if his heart was bumping like a rabbit’s in sprint, and the world had dwindled into a pair of dark, serious eyes locked into his. Steeling his resolve, Kenshin tried to put his thoughts into words. “If there is new world that can be created by my sword, a world where everyone can live peacefully and without fear… if my arm can create that world – I  _ will _ kill.”

Katsura nodded, sealing the simple agreement. Takasugi-san looked away, his ki feeling all muddled up.

 

* * *

 

The next couple hours flew in flurry as Kenshin rushed to gather his possessions and handled his affairs into order with Kiheitai. This included quite a few necessities such as gathering his pay for the current month and requisitioning travel provisions. Now he was finally heading to the edge of the camp where he was to meet with Takasugi-san and Katsura-san to travel down the mountain in their company.

However, the first problem of the long journey became soon apparent; both Samurai were apparently going to ride. They were conversing by their saddled up and ready mounts, and there was a horse arranged for Kenshin too. It really would have been perfectly logical and reasonable thing, if not for the fact…

“I don’t know how to ride.” Kenshin confessed ashamedly, feeling less and less like a proper soldier and more like a country bumpkin thrust into too fine company.

Katsura-san’s questioning look just served to drive the nail in even deeper, and then Takasugi-san had the gall to bark a laugh, “Of course you don’t. Come on kid, it’s not that hard. Here, let me give you a lift.” And with those words, the commander casually lifted Kenshin by his armpits on the horse! 

As if he was just a little kid!

Kenshin would have been enraged at the sheer injustice of it all, if he only had the time. But suddenly, there was this huge animal between his legs, his feet were in stirrups and pair of reins was thrust into his hands. 

He gaped in befuddlement.  _ Just what am I supposed to do, now? _

“Just kick if you want the beast to move. Pull at both reins, if you want it to slow down. That’s all there is to it.” Takasugi-san instructed with his energetic and commanding way, and then he, too, mounted up and they were off.

At first, Kenshin desperately clutched the reins in his fingers and gripped the saddle for better balance. However, it seemed that the horse didn’t  _ care  _ what he did, but instead trotted calmly along, keeping its place as the last of the line.

_What am I? A sack of rice?_ Kenshin’s first thought was indignant, but then the other side of the coin came clear. _If it just blindly follows the others,_ _I don’t need to know how to ride either…_

The realization calmed Kenshin just enough for him to look up from his death clutch of the reins, and saw both Takasugi-san and Katsura-san in deep conversation, riding ahead him like they had been born to it. 

_ Of course. They both are samurai… it’s expected of them to know how to ride. _

_ And I’m not.  _ Kenshin moodily frowned, but then purposefully forced his fingers to hold the reins more gently and sat up a bit straighter on the hard and uncomfortable saddle, trying to get used to the beast’s awkward motion.

Despite his best attempts, Kenshin was unable to relax entirely on the saddle. However riding wasn’t  _ that _ bad. With his sword resting on his hip and his travelling gear settled against the curve of his back, he was free to just sit there and look around. 

And he couldn’t help but to think:  _ maybe there is a point to this… _

They rode the down the narrow mountain road, horse's gait lazy. It was the high summer; the roadsides were full of grass and wildflowers, the trees green with new growth. It wasn’t too hot, and even the road wasn’t dusty because of the earlier rain.

_ Not bad sight to look at _ , Kenshin noted and tried to shift his balance. The horse’s swaying motion was starting to pain his thighs and backside. 

_ Am I doing something wrong, or do people truly travel like this for hours? Sitting on these hard saddles for days on end? _

_ Gods, no. I would rather walk.  _

Kenshin adjusted his seat once more, trying to find a better position. But then again, maybe this too required training. Some time to condition his muscles to the new strain. But did he truly want to get used to this?

_ Well, it isn’t like I have much of a choice. _

He preferred walking, yes. But if Katsura-san wanted him to ride, he probably should. _And come to think of it,_ _where are we going? Will we have to travel much longer?_

_ What did Takasugi-san say about directing a horse, again? Kick and it will move, pull at reins to slow it down… right?  _ Kenshin gathered the loose reins into a better hold and experimentally tugged them gently. The horse flicked its furry ears a tiny bit, but didn’t react otherwise.

_ Huh. _

_ So, should I pull harder? _

That got a reaction! Suddenly, the beast slowed to stand still.

_ Okay... time to get us back to moving before we are left behind.  _ Kenshin squeezed the horse’s sides with his legs, to no avail. 

_ Well, it isn’t like this lazy beast will move otherwise…  _ and thus Kenshin dug his heels into the horse's sides.

The horse flicked its ears and shook its head, clearly annoyed.

_ And just what did I do wrong, now? _

_ Oh…  _

He was still pulling at the reins. Automatically, Kenshin pushed his hands forward to give the horse more room to move, and _ whaaaaaaaaaat? _

_ Why is it running?!! _

 

* * *

 

“Say Kogoro, in Kyoto… what are you going to do with the boy?” Takasugi asked, sprawling casually on his saddle and idly smacked the mosquito biting the horse’s neck.  

Katsura frowned. Shinsaku had brought up a good point. As an assassin, the boy’s identity would have to an absolute secret, known only to those that needed to know. That was the only way to control a secret in the no man’s land that was the Capital’s political scene in these days.

And even if Katsura had mostly succeeded in remaining publicly as an utterly unremarkable, low ranked, backcountry politician… Choshuu’s sedimentary attitude was very well known. His movements were tracked by friends and foes alike. If he were to arrive in Kyoto with a highly noticeable foreign blooded child, of unknown class and status no less, the rumor mill would definitely pick it up.

_ No, that won’t do. I need to hide to boy… but where?  _ Katsura tightened his left fist and idly tapped the right hand’s fingers against the saddle’s arch.  _ There really aren’t many I can trust with a secret like this, and foreigner’s blood, of all things… _

Beside Katsura, the Kiheitai commander continued his disinterested act, pretending not to notice his quiet perusal. _And what is Shinsaku’s angle in this?_ _He is behaving oddly, and that remark… why is he so interested in the boy? Something here doesn’t add up._ Katsura frowned, but then thought out loud, “hiding him is the only option, with the situation being as it is right now. However, I will need to keep the boy close and in the city to be of use whenever necessary.”

“Hidden in plain sight, huh.”

“That’s unusually cryptic, coming from you. I would have thought you to be more plainspoken.”

Takasugi nodded, but didn’t react to the prompt at first. “Hmmm. I don’t care for deceit like this, but the thing that keeps coming to my mind…. the capital is filled to the brim with Samurai and Ronin at the moment. Many Ishin Shishi are using aliases to hide their activities from Bakufu and their lords.”

“So, you would have him pretend to be born to name?” Katsura skeptically noted, “Not only illegal, but also quite impossible, as you very well know. I don’t have the power to raise anyone to the status.”

“Ha! You haven’t cared about legalities in years, not as such. And while you may not have the  _ power _ , you do have the influence.”

_ That’s… very true. _

Indeed, while Katsura was only a Samurai among many others, he had worked to gain network of useful connections and widespread respect. And here in Hagi, in the clan matters – it was indeed doable to pull few of his better strings and slip the boy into the clan registries as a lower ranked vassal. Provided no one would be too interested in investigating the paper trail, the deceit shouldn’t surface again.

“I will arrange things. Thank you for your insight, Shinsaku.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Takasugi snorted, and paused to gather his thoughts, “it seems that you haven’t fully realized all the implications – the kid is a country bumpkin thorough. That riding thing? That’s only a beginning of it.”

Katsura’s look of polite disbelief might as well have been the exact same he had honed into perfection during the many meetings among the clan elders. The boy was clearly well-educated and had polite manners. While he wasn’t a Samurai in right, it didn’t matter much because someone had taught him well. Granted, Katsura had spoken with the child for just a few shorts moments, but all together the boy had left a good impression.

Takasugi scoffed at him in mocking amusement and spat to clear his throat before remarking pointedly, “the boy knows the sword, yes. He may be soft spoken and reasonably well mannered. But the rest? I don’t know what his education has included. He may know reading and writing, or not. May or may not know culture, proper ways of addressing people, social protocol, how to dress properly… the list goes on and on. What I am trying to say, if you want this ruse to work, you will have to _ teach _ the kid.”

Before Katsura even had a chance to answer, a commotion rose behind them; the kid had managed to spook his horse. 

_ How on earth? _

The nag was the laziest looking pack mount he had ever seen, and Katsura hadn’t even understood Takasugi’s insistence to reserve it for the boy until that lack of riding skills had come up. 

_ I wouldn’t have thought that even shooting a rifle next to that beast’s ears would spook it… _

Shinsaku shot a covert look at him and barked a laugh, before turning his horse around and galloping to catch the stray. Stopping his horse as well, Katsura settled for a wait.

_ A country bumpkin, eh? _

It seemed that his friend was once again right and to make this work, the kid would absolutely have to conduct himself properly. Given the need for secrecy, there really weren’t many teachers that could be arranged.  _ No, all together it’s best to keep this one close to the chest. _

_ Well, at least I will have time.  _ Katsura sighed, already disdaining the necessity of travel. The distance from southwestern Hagi to the capital was 340 miles and with moderate pace via horseback, it took about two weeks.

Tonight, they would stop at his estate and restock for the trip, but then it would be riding all day long. _ But if the boy needs to pass as Samurai in Kyoto… _

Katsura frowned, and considered the sight before him; a tiny, scruffy foreigner’s child in practical but worn cotton clothes retorting hotly back at laughing Takasugi. Not even the blade at the boy’s waist worked to give him the appearance of a warrior.

_ I will need to get him things, starting with proper clothing. Those really are rags… _

 

* * *

 

It was early evening that they arrived to Katsura’s family estate in Hagi, which was a lavish and highly stylized wooden two-story building. Immediately upon arriving to the courtyard, servants welcomed them and attended their horses. Then in short order, the weary travelers were arranged rooms and a meal was brought for them.

For Kenshin, this sort of blatant wealth was a very odd experience, even when comparing to his few hazy memories of Osumi and the Shiomi estate in Matsue. He just wasn’t used to having his needs attended by others, to being  _ served _ like he was a lord.

It left him particularly unsure on how to behave.

To make things even more unnerving, whenever Kenshin hesitated on  _ anything _ , like on simple etiquette, Takasugi-san would glance at Katsura-san, who in turn would frown thoughtfully. Neither of the men seemed angry, nor dismayed with his mishaps. But still, those glances were odd and left Kenshin feeling more and more like outsider.

It was only after dinner, that Kenshin finally got to have some answers to what was going on with the two Samurai and their silent conversation.

“Kenshin – that’s what you are called, isn’t that right?” Katsura-san asked, out of sudden.  

Nodding promptly, Kenshin opened his lips trying to find the words for a proper answer. But somehow, it seemed even more impossible than usual.  _ Not that Master is here to admonish me of not using the verbal answers… _

_ I won’t have to be “idiot student” ever again, but simply Kenshin.  _ That thought should have been happy one, but instead it felt hollow.

_ Come to think of it, though Katsura-san was introduced to me… I wasn’t ever introduced to him in turn.  _ It was maybe an odd thing to notice at this late time, but an introduction was always considered polite necessity, even among the lower classes. So, this odd  _ lack _ … did it mean something?

“I gather that you are not of Samurai class.”

“No. My father was a farmer.” Kenshin hesitantly answered, voicing the truth from the best angle. _But it’s useless if_ _Katsura-san is like those Samurai, who don’t approve of the “lower classes stepping outside their boundaries”…_

“That’s what I thought. I don’t value people by their social class, but it’s a good thing to know. In any case… as you heard, I am the head of Choshuu’s Ishin Shishi. However, I do most of my work these days in the capital. So we will be travelling to Kyoto tomorrow.”  

_ Kyoto! The Capital! _ Kenshin stared, utterly stunned.  _ I have never been that far… _

“Unfortunately, my activities are followed closely. If I were to arrive in Kyoto with a child of foreign blood, questions would arise. However, as an influential man I never travel without a bodyguard. So, if I happen to arrive with a young Samurai guard, never mind his unusually pale skin and a perchance for wearing hats, no one would question it.”

_ What’s Katsura-san trying to say? Travel, bodyguard… Oh.  _ “But posing as a Samurai is a crime.”

“It is. However, I am planning on adding you to the clan registries here in Hagi. If you don’t raise too much attention, no one would know better. There are over a hundred lower class Samurai families here in Choshuu and it would take an extensive investigation to uncover the truth. Who in the capital would be interested?”

_ It certainly sounds logical, but _ …  _ on top of being illegal, it’s also a lie.  _ Kenshin hesitated. He had always been aware that he was of lower birth, and to make things even worse – he was an orphan sold into slavery and thus thrust outside the caste system. It was practically impossible for him  _ not _ to know the difference in status after living for years with his educated and cultured Master.

On the other hand, Kenshin didn’t wish to give trouble to Katsura-san either.  

But then again, the thought of telling the untruth didn’t sit well on Kenshin’s conscience. So, he tried to put his hesitation into words, as awkward and rude as they were; “I don’t know. I don’t lie and… I don’t even know much of Samurai.”

At the sidelines, Takasugi-san scoffed. Katsura-san, however, didn’t pay any attention to the commander, but instead kept looking at Kenshin intently, “it’s a common practice to use alternate names. Ishin Shishi works to overthrow the Bakufu’s tyranny and our activities  _ must _ be hidden with a veil of secrecy. I cover my goings occasionally with the name Niibori Matsusuke. Even Takasugi-san, here, uses the name Tani Umenosuke for this very purpose. It would be quite much the same thing for you to assume an identity as Samurai.”

“Oh.” 

The thorough explanation felt quite like an admonishment, but the tone it was delivered in was kind and made it all sound very reasonable. Of course the government wouldn’t look too kindly on any activity that threatened it, which was the exact reason Kenshin had trouble finding out about Kiheitai and Ishin Shishi’s activities in the first place. And if it all was for the goal of ensuring the happiness of common people, what was one lie for it?

“…I’ll do it. But, I don’t know if I will be very good at it.”

“That will be easily corrected. The travel will take a fortnight and I can teach you on the road.”

_ Two weeks? _ Kenshin gaped, a feeling of  foreboding striking him. Travelling to the Capital by foot would take a lot longer than couple weeks, even if he would travel alone. So… _ No _ .

_ No way. _

_ Horses? Riding for weeks?  _ Kenshin shuddered, before even more worrying fear hit him.  _ What if I can’t do it? _ P _ retending to be a Samurai... even with Katsura-san promising to teach me, two weeks is awfully short time...  _

“Speaking of names. The Samurai have the right to bear a family name. Do you have a preference? I can invent you one, if you would like… but the names  _ do _ have a meaning to them, the family names more than others, as they have a legacy to uphold.”

Kenshin glanced up at Katsura-san in surprise.  _ A family name? _

_ …well, if I am to act as a Samurai, I should have one, too _ , Kenshin paused, before nodding thoughtfully.  _ But what would be good name? _

Kenshin had always liked the meanings behind names, and their significance had been a long holding fascination for him ever since he had been a little kid – since Master had renamed him as “Heart of the Sword”. And because of this, he too had in turn given the spirit the name Kenta in turn, as it had been with him since he was Shinta…

_ A family name, though… _

‘What do you think?’ He asked the spirit. This concerned them both.

_ Hesitation. Agreement. _

_ Then the image of village in flames. _

It was the memory of the Samurai incident!

‘Yes.’ Kenta whispered.

Kenshin thought it over; it had been very important moment in his life. Actually, hadn’t his conviction that the law wasn’t protecting the people good enough been born then? So in truth, the path leading him to this very moment… it began back then.

_ The petting agreement feeling. _

If family names had a legacy to uphold and if Kenshin was to take a new name for  _ fighting… _ then it would be the only fitting choice, because his fight for Sonno Joi and Ishin Shishi had started there, in village covered in flames. So fire – Hi and village – Mura.

_ Doesn’t sound too bad, _ Kenshin thought and tried it out loud, tasting the syllables, “Himura. Himura Kenshin.”

“That’s a fine name.” Katsura-san agreed. “I will see to it. Get some rest now. We will have much to do tomorrow before we can leave.”

_ …just like that?  _ Kenshin boggled. But recognizing a clear dismissal, he took his leave.

 

* * *

 

After dismissing the boy, Katsura couldn’t help but to notice his friend’s pensive mood. However, there wasn’t any need to look further for the cause. Takasugi’s dislike of the idea of using the boy as an assassin and the resulting inner fight between morality and desperation of their needs had been going all day.

_ If I am entirely honest, I don’t care about this either,  _ Katsura scoffed. The more he talked with the boy, the more he realized that he  _ liked _ the kid. Kenshin had a heart in the right place, but at the same time, he was so  _ dreadfully young _ .

Katsura had been surprised to learn that the boy was already 13 years old. He would have assumed it less, because boy was so small – Kenshin couldn’t be even five feet tall.

_ But there is a need, and here is a willing resource to be used. That’s all there is to it,  _ Katsura decided. In any case, tomorrow would be busy day. The boy would need to be outfitted for the role and his current bodyguard dismissed for other duties. It really wouldn’t do to travel with more than one, as it only served to raise unnecessary attention – and Kenshin could easily protect him if it became necessary.

“The boy’s soul will be ruined by this work, you know?”

Raising his brow in skeptical disbelief, Katsura rebuffed; “Shinsaku, you can’t keep him here.”

_ Of all the moments, now he chooses to make his mind? We are already in Hagi! _

Takasugi plunged his lute, frowning in thought. And then, his friend raised his gaze and shot a dark, half lidded look at him – and, at that moment, Katsura realized why so many people feared the Kiheitai commander. The casual danger the man was known for, was for the first time aimed directly at him.

“If you need an assassin that badly, you could do it yourself. You were good enough with the blade in Edo. Except for Sakamoto Ryuma, you never lost.”

_ True _ , Katsura bowed his head in acquaintance of the scathing remark.  _ I do have the skill for the deed. _

But the fact was…

_ I am not anymore a mere boy studying swordsmanship, nor a student in Yoshida Shoin’s school with you. _

No, Katsura had grown into his position as a major political player, as an influential man in his own right in this deadly game for the future of the country. In the dead calm tone that allowed no argument, he stated, “if I could, I would. But I am the head of Choshuu Ishin Shishi now.”

And with those words, Katsura lowered his tea to the tray in front of him, gathered his sword and rose.  _ It’s decided. And the harsh truth is… among the two of us, I am the leader now. _

A mocking tone continued behind his back, “yeah. That’s right. You are the the head of Choshuu at the revolutions’ festival. No one will carry a leader covered in blood. So you are going to ruin that boy’s life, just so you can stay clean.”

Not allowing himself to be provoked, Katsura turned around and with a challenging look invited the man to say his piece and be done with it.

Takasugi didn’t deign to face him, but just looked to the distance for a while, before nodding, alike coming to a decision. “The boy is the most prized member of my Kiheitai, but I will let you take him to Kyoto, on one condition.”

“What is it?”

“You must keep your life clean and virtuous. Promise me, you will  _ never _ again draw your sword.”

_ If that is the price for the deal… so be it _ . Katsura bowed his head in agreement. After all, if he was going to have Hiten Mitsurugi’s strength on his command, there would be no need for him to use his sword again. And Takasugi was right – people would follow a leader that they could respect and admire. He would have to become a person worth of that regard.  

“You have my word. This night marks the end of Katsura Kogoro, the swordsman.”

It was settled. Takasugi wouldn’t step in his way anymore, so he turned his back and started towards the door, ready to retire for the night.

“Good, now you can concentrate on leading the Choshuu Ishin Shishi. Leave everything else on my hands.”

“I will count on you.” Katsura called over his shoulder, and left.

 

* * *

 

_ I have a family name now? I will be a Samurai? _

It seemed too big a thing to understand at the moment, Kenshin pondered as he hobbled along the corridors, his backside and thighs aching desperately from the awkward ride.  _ And we will ride again tomorrow? _

_ Ugh... Maybe it really is a good idea to retire already.   _

Kenshin’s room in Katsura-san’s estate was simple, but every item was of high quality, like the thick, soft bedding put ready for his use. Kenshin glanced at the futon suspiciously, already suspecting that it would be useless endeavor to attempt to sleep in it.

The problem was that Kenshin had spent most of his life sleeping on a thin bedroll laid flat directly to the hard ground. Even at the mountain there hadn’t been any luxuries. Added to that his recent sleeping problems… 

_ But will I ever get another chance to enjoy luxuries like this? _

Well, it was better not to think of things he had no control over, and it wasn’t like he was  _ that _ tired. More importantly, the room had a window! Kenshin settled to sit on the window sill to marvel at the pretty sky, already liking this fancy addition. Not many houses he had visited had proper windows.

Somehow, it really was calming to look at the sky painted in hues of red and blue without needing to climb to the roof.

Katsura-san had seemed really kind and understanding man, but at the same time, his ki felt very still and collected, cold – almost calculating. 

Truthfully, Kenshin didn’t know what to think of the man.

On one hand, it was blatantly obvious that the head of Choshuu’s Ishin Shishi was a swordsman. In a duel, Kenshin would have hesitated to attack him first, as ki and the carefully collected way the man walked screamed  _ danger _ .

But on the other hand, there was the calm, kind and cultured look of the man...  It was like what Katsura-san looked like and felt like didn’t match. But nevertheless, Kenshin had already agreed to lend his strength for the man’s cause.

_ To kill for him. _

He had already agreed to lie for the cause, something he hadn’t  _ ever _ wanted to do.

_ “…If you leave this mountain, you will live a life of murder, under the will of men who write their own justice. If you throw your lot with them, Hiten Mitsurugi will make you a mass murderer!”  _ Master’s warning rang in his head. It was hard to believe it had been already few months since then.

_ Is this really the right choice? _

_ Will following this Katsura Kogoro be the best use of Hiten Mitsurugi’s strength? Should I trust Katsura-san? _

_ This man with two faces? _

It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Actually, the more Kenshin turned it all around in his head, the more unsure he felt about it all. Attempting to banish the unsettling thoughts, he took Kasumi’s top from his pocket. It was only a child’s toy and he wasn’t a kid anymore. But just looking at it…

_ “Live Shinta. Live for me.”  _ She had said back then.

For innocents like  _ her _ .

_Yes, for innocents like Kasumi and Miya – I will stain my hands in blood._ _I will protect others like them. Many more than Master’s actions ever did, countless innocent lives._

_ Yes. _

_ I will be their savior – a hero. _

 


	3. Reasons for fighting

# Chapter 16. Reasons for fighting

 

Sometime after sunrise, Kenshin made his way to breakfast and found his commander already there. He nodded a greeting to Takasugi-san and gingerly sat down across from him. A moment later, a maid brought him a breakfast tray. Kenshin couldn’t quite keep his disbelief from showing as he took in the finely arranged display of vegetables, grilled fish, traditional miso soup, and rice.

_Is this how samurai live?_

It seemed too stark a difference from what he was used to. However, considering how amusing Takasugi-san seemed to find his ill-mannered gaping, maybe he needed to get used to casual displays of wealth. Especially if Katsura-san was sure about having him to pose as samurai. With these thoughts in mind, Kenshin dug eagerly into the delicious dishes.

“I will leave soon to handle the business of the Kiheitai.”

Kenshin glanced up from his food and gulped.

“You will be under Katsura’s command now.” Takasugi-san looked at him intently, his eyes piercing. “He will take care of you.”

Kenshin paused, but at the lack of anything good to say, he only nodded in answer. _But why is he looking at me like that?_

It seemed enough for the Kiheitai’s commander. Without a further word, Takasugi-san took his sword, rose, and left the room, passing Katsura-san and another young man on his way out.

“Good morning, Kenshin. I see you are almost finished with your breakfast. Very good,” Katsura-san said in greeting, before gesturing to the youth at his side, “I’d like to introduce you to Katsura Taro-kun. While I attend to some business, he will help you purchase the things you are going to need. We will regroup here at noon and then take our leave.”

The young man was a bit older than Kenshin, but clearly still in his teens. Maybe fifteen years or so? He had his paired swords and he was dressed just as finely as any other samurai Kenshin had seen in the estate. His ki felt hesitant, but unusually warm — and his expression mirrored the feeling.

Realizing he was a bit too late to greet the youth in turn, Kenshin grabbed his sword and rose to stand, looking at the newcomer for any cue about what to do.

Taro-kun seemed to be made equally awkward by the silence. He glanced at Katsura-san for approval before murmuring quietly, “It’s nice to meet you, Kenshin-kun.”

“Good. I will leave you to it. Here, Taro-kun. Remember, all the expenses are on me.” Katsura-san handed the purse to the youth, nodding at Kenshin curtly before taking his leave with long, hurried strides.

Both youngsters were left standing alone in the large dining room.

It was _awkward_.

Kenshin truly had no idea what to say to the other boy. He wasn’t good at dealing with people in general, but wasn’t it usually expected for him to introduce himself? But Katsura-san had already done that for him... Ugh, what to say?

Should he say that he, too, was glad to meet this Taro-kun?

But it seemed too late for that, too…

Kenshin shuffled his feet hesitantly. _What should I do?_

“Well, you clearly aren’t samurai... So why does Kogoro-san want me to equip you as one?” Taro uttered in disbelief.

Kenshin looked up and seeing the boy’s expression, all his shy hesitations bled away. Why was everyone constantly underestimating him? And who was this Taro-kun to doubt him, too? The youth couldn’t be much older than him! His annoyance sparkling, Kenshin muttered testily, “Katsura-san wants me to work for him in Kyoto.”

“No way, a little kid like you... what use could you be for him in the Capital?

“I’m fourteen!” Kenshin barked back, automatically adding a few months to his age. It wasn’t like there was really need to count his age from the New Year, was it? Besides, it could very well be true! Straightening his back to stand taller, Kenshin tried to deepen his voice, “I will fight for him there.”

“What? Truly? With what?

“My swordsmanship, of course.” Kenshin retorted. _Is this kid stupid or something? Doesn’t he see my sword?_

“Oh... but wouldn’t you have to be really good, then?” Taro questioned with a bit of uncertainty leaking into his voice. And on his face, there was a look of... _jealousy_?

_What...? Why for?_

“I am good.” Kenshin said slowly, stating the fact without a hint of boasting. “Is it really so hard to believe?”

Taro glanced at his feet and reddened, almost like he was embarrassed?

“Well, yeah. _I_ am not allowed to fight. They always tell me to stay here and train. And I always train, but how could I get any better if I can’t fight for real?”

 _He... he just wants to fight! Just like me!_ Kenshin smiled, “That's what I think, too!”

“Really?” Taro looked up.

“Yeah. I fought with my Master to leave. He didn’t want me to fight either. But I wanted to join the cause and fight for my beliefs, just like the others...so I left. But I wouldn’t recommend that. Maybe, if you get good enough, you will be allowed you to fight, too?”

Taro considered that for a moment, before he, too, smiled. “We will see... but let’s get going. We need to get you _a lot_ of things. Kogoro-san gave me the money for it, so we might as well use it!”

Kenshin nodded, a real smile rising to his lips. _It could be nice to spend time with someone my age, even if it’s just for a few hours..._

 

* * *

 

It turned out that shopping with Taro-kun was quite fun. The other boy was startlingly good company and he had lots of funny remarks to make about people they passed in the streets. However, they weren’t mean-spirited like the soldier’s jokes, but amusing observations about how people walked, dressed and speculations of where they had been or where they were going.

The amazing thing about Taro-kun was how well he knew his way around the better parts of town and the shops samurai frequented. It was like Taro-kun was familiar with every single shopkeeper in town and always managed to get their recommendations and cheaper prices just by _talking_.

It was a feat Kenshin could have never managed on his own and made Taro-kun an expert guide on this shopping expedition.

They begun by buying new clothes for Kenshin. In addition to getting comfortable everyday wear like tabi socks, yukata and the like, Taro-kun instantly decided to buy two new kimonos for him in a really nice dark blue. The other was practical cotton, though a thicker weight than Kenshin was used to. However, the other one was made of a fine silk blend — and it was something Kenshin would have never even dreamed of buying on his own.

Taro had cheerfully chosen the colors and fabrics for the clothes. Kenshin had let him, feeling helpless about all the choices. It wasn’t like he knew what samurai dressed like!

However, while he didn’t have anything against getting better clothes, he had put his foot down when Taro had suggested getting geta clogs and undivided hakama. Sure, they could be more formal and kinda cool, but he truly didn’t see any point in using Katsura-san’s money for buying clothing he couldn’t fight in. In the end, Taro-kun conceded and chose two thick cotton gray hakama, in a seven pleated, divided cut to go with his sandals.

The shopping trip continued with other necessary items, like new traveling gear, followed by some quite frivolous top of the mind purchases, like the new purse, new lacquered comb and leather woven hair ties — for keeping that crow’s nest in order! The list continued on and on.

The sun was reaching its apex when Taro noted all of sudden that if Kenshin was to be samurai, he would need a second sword — a wakizashi.

It wasn’t like Kenshin could disagree with the statement, but it gave him a nasty pang of regret. When he had left the mountain, he had left his old trusty sword behind for the very reason that he _wasn’t_ samurai.

To make thing more annoying, well... it turned out that finding a wakizashi that actually suited him on such short notice was a ridiculously difficult task. Most of the blades were just too long and heavy for him to use efficiently. After an hour of constant disappointment, Taro jokingly suggested that they could take a blade from women’s tanto, a short dagger, and replace the hilt.

Kenshin scowled at the remark and testily spat out that he wasn’t a girl. Even if he still happened to be small like one!

Thankfully, at the fourth smithy they finally found a blade that passed Kenshin’s muster for practicality and functionality.

However, while it was a fine blade... it was a little bit _too_ fine.

The folded steel was of excellent quality, the balance was perfect, but there were engravings near the handle and even worse, the tsuba had fancy dragon embossing made of real gold. Those drove the price absurdly high. Kenshin would have survived the whole winter living with master on that much money...

But when Taro saw that the blade passed his requirements, he merely sighed with exasperated relief and eagerly paid the price. Without even pausing to think twice about it!

It was then that Kenshin truly realized the difference between their circumstances. They were literally worlds apart. Taro was used to living in wealth and didn’t see money as something rare. No, for him it was just something to be used as he pleased.

Kenshin, on the other hand... well, he had _never_ had anything worth much. For him, anything new was always a remarkable luxury. Clothes and tools were always used to the breaking point, and sometimes even _food_ was too much to afford.

It was like, despite being of being close in age and having similar interests, they were living in completely different worlds. Was this because the difference in their social classes? Of having been born into into privilege?  

Or was it truly?

After all, Taro, too, wanted to fight for _sonno joi_. Like him, Taro agreed that the Shogunate wasn’t doing a good enough job to protect the happiness of the common people.

But why would Taro believe that, exactly?

It didn’t make any sense! The Shogunate’s laws were good for those born into higher castes. Why would Taro have a problem with it?

The thought kept bothering Kenshin, so finally he had to ask. “Taro... why do you want to fight?”

“I don’t know... I don’t like those heavy taxes the government and those foreign pigs bleed out of Choshuu.” Taro started hesitantly, before frowning. “Well, no... That’s not _my_ reason, not really. That’s something I hear father and Kogoro-san debating all the time...  Actually, I just want to help my family. They want this, so I will do my best to fight for them.”

_Huh..._

_So in truth, our reasons aren’t even remotely similar._ Kenshin frowned, feeling a bit disappointed. But the thing was, even if they didn’t have much in common… he couldn’t help but to like the other boy. Taro was nice, funny and eager to help.

“Hey... you know, you look almost like a true samurai now. Those clothes and swords really do the trick. But, hmm... there is still something missing. Oh, I know! Here, let me!”

“Hey, what are you doing to my hair?!!”

“Calm down.. all samurai wear their hair in a topknot. Of course, for this crow’s nest to be styled properly, we would need to shave away the top and oil the rest for a clean look. But unfortunately we don’t have the time for that.” Taro muttered while slipping Kenshin’s hair out of his ponytail and letting it fall freely to his shoulder blades. Then he combed it roughly with his fingers and deftly tied it much higher than usual, almost up to the crown of his head.  

“Now you look like a proper samurai!” Taro declared, clearly proud of himself.

“I wouldn’t know,” Kenshin scoffed sourly, rubbing his aching scalp. “It’s not like I can see it myself.”

“True... oh, I have an idea! Follow me!” Taro grinned and dashed down the street, back in the same direction they had just come from.

Lugging the purchases he hadn’t already changed into, Kenshin rushed to follow. _Just what is he up to now?_

Taro-kun disappeared into one shop down the street, only to come back to the doorway to gesture at him. “Come! Come in, already!”

The place seemed just a tiny showroom for a larger business, a smithy of some sort. However, when he stepped inside, he saw it was a jeweler’s shop.

_What the..._

Taro was standing next to a table displaying a selection of small, hand held mirrors. Before Kenshin could protest at the frivolity of it, Taro grabbed one and held it out for Kenshin — showing him his reflection clearly for the very first time.

 _...He is right._ Kenshin realized.

Unlike the distorted image he had sometimes noted reflected in water, the mirror showed him a stranger… albeit one that had his foreign colors. No longer did he look like the scruffy country bumpkin Master had always called him, but instead…

 _Do I look a little older?_  

Kenshin turned his face a bit, trying to see better. But yes, it seemed to be true.

_It has to be the hair._

Somehow, the topknot made his face seem narrower, his cheeks more defined, and even his chin seemed pointier. It was like all the baby fat has disappeared from his face. He wasn’t particularly nice to look at, no — he resembled something like a starved ferret, but no longer did he look like a 10 year old playing swordsmanship either.

Maybe, in spite of everything, Katsura-san’s crazy plot could actually work? Kenshin frowned thoughtfully. _And speaking of my upcoming trip to Kyoto..._

“Hey Taro, how can you stand to ride all day? Is there some trick to the saddle or something?

 

* * *

 

That afternoon, Kenshin and Katsura-san left for Kyoto. Their saddle bags were packed full of supplies for the incoming trip, including water, food, and heaviest of their personal belongings. The rest, Kenshin had bundled neatly in his bedroll and strapped tightly behind the uncomfortable campaign saddle.

When Katsura-san had seen his and Taro’s purchases, he hadn’t even batted an eyelid at all the packages nor the severely depleted money pouch. Instead, the older samurai had simply nodded his approval and said, “Very good, Himura-kun.”

It felt like this whole farce was becoming more real by the moment.

According to Katsura-san, the best route to the capital was to go through the mountains from Hagi to Suo province and then follow the coastal road all the way up to Bizen.

This wasn’t much of a surprise to Kenshin. While he hadn’t ever been to the capital, he had spent his youth roaming the southwestern countryside with his master and they had often traveled the popular route.  

The matter of riding, though... well, after the rocky start, Kenshin had to grudgingly admit that it wasn’t that bad. The more time he spend in the saddle, the easier it was to adapt to the horse's movements. Not that the first few days hadn’t been a painful experience to his unaccustomed muscles...

Another thing that Kenshin noticed, to his acute embarrassment, was that his new kimono didn’t want to stay properly tied. Maybe it was because of the thicker, better quality weave? Or perhaps he was just too thin... but regardless of why, his sash would always loosen before he even noticed and flashed just a little bit more than was proper of his pale chest. However, no matter his frantic efforts, there wasn’t much he could do about it, unless he sewed strings into his collar and tied it shut.

So finally, Kenshin gave up correcting it.

Besides, when he finally got over his self-consciousness... it wasn’t that bad. The weather had stayed hot and feeling a nice sea breeze on his sweaty skin was quite nice.  

What he hadn’t quite expected from the travel, however, was how Katsura-san kept telling him about samurai and explaining nuances of how he should behave. It was strange to speak while travelling. But to his surprise, Kenshin found the instruction quite interesting… and more importantly, all too necessary.

He hadn’t even realized how little he knew about etiquette!

The only problem was that like Master, Katsura-san seemed to be overly fond of the eloquent words that were beyond his understanding of language. And worse, it wasn’t like he would dare to ask for clarifications!

It didn’t help either that Kenshin hadn’t made his mind what to think of the older samurai.

While Katsura-san was kind and cultured... he was also a powerful, dangerous man. And despite his friendly manners, he was also Kenshin’s direct superior. It was something he couldn’t forget. After all, samurai were all about status.

The constant feeling of mismatch between Katsura-san’s manner and presence hadn’t lessened either. No, somehow, it seemed to be getting even more pronounced now that he was spending hours and hours in the samurai’s company.

It was making it very hard for Kenshin to trust him.

Or was he just making things overly complicated again?  

Katsura-san had never been anything but kind, polite and courteous towards him. What did it matter if he wasn’t quite sure how to act towards him? The best he could do was be as polite as he could and observe. Sooner or later things would have to become clearer.

The problem of keeping up his best act was that he truly didn’t know that much of the intricacies of the highborn etiquette.

And sadly, it didn’t take Katsura-san long to notice it.

Instead of the disappointment Kenshin had expected, Katsura-san merely huffed under his breath and changed his lessons on the spot. The over the top detailed instructions condensed to advice that was far easier to understand: if he was ever unsure how to behave, he should just keep to himself and stay silent.

This was a huge relief to Kenshin, truly.

Their camping and meal arrangements didn’t go as Kenshin had expected, either.

It started on the first evening. In mere moments after they had stopped for the night, Katsura-san had noticed that Kenshin had absolutely no idea how to handle the horses. So instead of trying to instruct him from the sidelines, Katsura-san had taken the matter into his own hands, ignoring the fact that he had just spend the day detailing how among samurai, the higher ranked man never did menial tasks if it could be avoided.  

It had left Kenshin feeling useless and he had ended up building the campfire and cooking their meal.

For some reason, this had amused Katsura-san greatly, especially after he had noticed how easily cooking came to him. Feeling like the matter required some clarification, Kenshin had blushed and tried to explain that he had cooked most of the dishes during his training years. It was an interest he had developed purely out of self-preservation. After all, Master’s cooking had truly been a disaster.

Katsura-san hadn’t commented on it more, merely nodded and complimented the food.

Kenshin hadn’t managed to hide his pleased surprise at all. It wasn’t like anyone had ever complimented his cooking!

Another noteworthy event had been early on, back on the second day when they had reached the provincial border. Kenshin had been bit nervous to cross the border out of Choshuu, especially dressed as he was. But Katsura-san had confidently ridden forward and calmly announced to the guard, “Katsura Kogoro travelling to Kyoto with his bodyguard, Himura Kenshin.”  

The border guard had taken their passes for a cursory look, before nodding and stepping aside. “Very good, Katsura-san. Best of luck to your work in the capital.”

And then, they had ridden past the border.

Like it was _easy_.

Kenshin couldn’t help but stare. Passing the border had never been _easy_ before. When he had traveled with Master, the border guards had always had something disdainful to say to the ronin traveling with a foreign looking kid.   

_Is this the difference between being samurai or not?_

_Or is it just travelling with him?_ Kenshin frowned, stealing a curious look at Katsura-san’s back.

However, the experience had made it clear that Kenshin, too, could pass for samurai. After all, the border guard hadn’t spared a moment's notice on him, nor had he remarked on his hair either.

 _...Which is weird. Shouldn’t it be twice as strange to see samurai as odd looking as I am?_   

 

* * *

 

In middle of 8th day on the road, the polite routine they had settled into was broken. They were traveling at a particularly slow pace because of the sweltering heat. Katsura-san had seemed somehow distant throughout the morning, when he suddenly asked, “Kenshin-kun, have you ever killed a man with the Hiten Mitsurugi?”

Kenshin paused, not knowing how to take the unusually personal question. But when he thought about it, he finally answered, “No.”

Because, when thinking about it logically... those two samurai in Settsu weren’t killed with Hiten Mitsurugi style. It had been just him and Kenta using basic strikes.

 _And it was over so quickly too..._  

“But are you willing to?” Katsura-san interrupted his morose memories.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t like there was any question about it. He had already agreed. And truly, the art of the sword was the art of murder. Master had told him that right from the beginning.

“Why? If I may ask?”

 _Why is he asking me this?_ Kenshin glanced at the samurai riding by his side, noting the older man’s pensive expression. It seemed he had something heavy on his mind.

_I already agreed to follow him, so what else could it be? Is he somehow displeased with me?_

Struggling to put his thoughts into proper words, Kenshin hesitated, “It’s for a better world. I want to help people... to drive away the foreigners and replace the Shogunate. To fight for _sonno joi_.”

Somehow, his answer only served to deepen Katsura-san’s frown and he turned to look at Kenshin intently. “Why do you want to drive away the foreigners?”

_Huh? But that’s..._

“Err, well... because of the foreigners, the government is doing a bad job and they have forced heavy taxes on the common people.”

_Isn’t it so? Everyone seems to dislike the foreigners just for that reason..._

“Hmm. My teacher, Yoshida Shoin _admired_ the foreigners. Especially their culture and technology. He wanted to learn from them. I agree with him.”  

_Errrr, what..?_

“…Why?” Kenshin stuttered, utterly stunned.

“The fact is that our country is hopelessly outgunned compared to the foreign powers: America, Prussia, Britain... and many other European countries. They have wealth and power to absolutely crush us as we are. If they wished, they could attack now and subjugate us.”

_...Oh. I didn’t know that._

Kenshin gaped. “But why haven’t they, then?

“They are interested in us. Our culture is just as strange to them as theirs is for us. We are far from them, separated by months of sea travel. Also, there are many interested parties.” Katsura explained, noting how dazed Kenshin was becoming by his explanation.

The samurai smiled, before continuing more plainly. “Think of it like Choshuu competing with Satsuma and other influential provinces about a domain up in the north. The target is too far away for conquest to be a practical option. And even if we managed to win the war for it, the distance would be too great to maintain control. Especially when there are so many interested parties. What this all comes down to, is that we are essentially not worth the trouble for the foreigners. What they want from us, they can get more easily and a lot more cheaply by trade.”

_That makes sense... sort of._

“So the reason why the foreigners forced the Shogunate into those one-sided agreements is because... it’s an easy way for them to get what they want?

“Yes. And because the Shogunate is powerless to stop them, they beg and try to appease the foreigners.”

Kenshin stared in disbelief. _That.. that sounds exactly like what Miya’s father, Kouta-san, tried to do when those two samurai wanted to burn his house. It looked so wrong to see him beg... it was like..._

“If the foreigners are so strong, how could they respect us and treat us as equals if we don’t stand up to them?”

“They don’t.” Katsura-san said frankly. “And while I may admire the foreigners for their advances, it doesn’t mean I approve of what they are doing here. I think that if we learn their technology, economy, military advances... all the qualities that make them strong, we could use the best of those to strengthen Japan in turn. Then, we can stand against them with pride and deal with them on our _own_ terms.”

_So right now... the country is weak? But if we just could learn and get stronger... yes._

Kenshin nodded. “I think I understand. But why doesn’t the Shogunate see this? If they could just be told -”

“They have been told, many times over. But the Shogun is young and ignorant, letting his advisors make the decisions for the country. They make decision just for their own benefit, not ruling for the betterment of us all. Even now, there is a political battle going on among the Imperial court and Shogun’s bakufu.”

It sounded stupid, if Kenshin was entirely honest. Especially if the foreigners were as dangerous as Katsura-san had told him. “So instead of fighting together against the foreigners, the government fights against _itself_?

“That is a very simple way of putting it, but yes, basically. It’s the very reason why we Ishin Shishi are working to overthrow the Shogunate and install the Emperor to rule once more. We will need strong and unified leadership to lead us into the new era.”

After those words, they both fell into thoughtful silence.

It wasn’t like there was much Kenshin could add to that. But while he could follow Katsura-san’s reasoning and logic somewhat, he couldn’t help but to notice that Katsura-san was always speaking of the betterment of the _country._

What would all of this mean to the common _people_?

Kenshin glanced at the samurai riding beside him and finally asked the one question that kept coming to his mind. “Katsura-san... what will the new world be like?”

The leader of Choshuu’s Ishin Shishi looked at him and smiled softly. “In the future, you mean? When this conflict is behind us?”

Kenshin nodded, tilting his head in silent encouragement.

Katsura-san frowned, taking a moment to consider his words... before speaking wistfully. “It will be a world where we will  have modern technologies and ways of governing, where every talent is used regardless of hereditary right. Where burdens and benefits are shared together. Where education and wealth aren’t reserved for a select few, but where the people can live freely and happily. That’s the kind of world I would like to live in.”

Quick as a whiplash, Kenshin turned to look at Katsura-san, staring at him with wide eyes. _That sounds like..._

The leader of the Choshuu Ishin Shishi was older, wealthy and a true samurai. A leader and a dangerous man with two faces... still, despite all that, Kenshin suddenly realized: _he is like me._  

_Katsura-san wants the exact same things I want for the people._

Master had called Kenshin a “naive idealist” when he had brought up similar hopes during their discussions. But while Katsura-san wasn’t naive — no, the older man was anything but naive — he was an _idealist,_ too.

During those few hours with Taro-kun in Hagi, Kenshin had met a young man fighting for the same cause as him. They had had many similarities on the surface, but where it mattered... they had been worlds apart. But with Katsura-san, Kenshin couldn’t help but to think...

_Here is a man, a leader, who feels the same way I do._

And at that moment, Kenshin decided: _if I can help this man reach the goal we both want, whatever it takes... I will do it._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I have always tried to figure out just why Kenshin sacrificed so much for Katsura. Why he never questioned the man… what made their bond so strong. Here is my explanation for it. However, this is merely a simplified summary of Japan‘s 1860’ era politics. I’m trying to summarize the many relevant aspects so that our dear, sweet, naïve Kenshin can understand them.
> 
> Also, be warned: now begins Kenshin’s five years in hell.
> 
> Special thanks to Animaniacal-laughter for checking my grammar.


	4. The Black Envelope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where the heavy stuff begins.
> 
> Warnings: violence, description of a murder and character going through shock

 

# Chapter 17. The Black Envelope

 

Ever since Kenshin arrived in Kyoto, he’d been stuck in a state of wide-eyed wonder. The capital was large, far larger than Hagi, bigger even than Hiroshima. But what made it so remarkable was the people. The busy streets were filled with wayfarers of all sorts: the rich, the poor, people of every caste.

There were even _real_ foreigners!

Barraged with so many different ways of speaking, so many different accents, Kenshin was having trouble understanding even the casual talk in the streets. He had spent all his life in southwest, where people generally spoke the same way. Compared to that, Kyoto was pure _chaos_. It was like the people were literally from all over the country.

However, what struck Kenshin the most was the sheer number of samurai striding through the streets. Among all those paired swords, he truly just melded in – even when he didn’t bother using his hat. Some people might pause to stare at his hair, but only in idle interest that passed quickly enough. No, mostly people just ignored him. He wasn’t even remotely the most interesting thing to look at.

It was oddly… _refreshing_.

All his life, people had noticed Kenshin in all the wrong ways. But here, he was no one special.

He truly liked it.

Kenta though, had been annoyed at him lately. It was understandable, as Kenshin hadn’t had a chance to talk with the spirit in a while. Not since leaving the Kiheitai, actually. There never seemed to be a good time or place, that’s all.

That had been true from the very first evening in the city.

Right after they had arrived, Katsura-san had taken him to an inn situated near the Shirakawa river and introduced him to the innkeeper, Okami-san. Apparently, a lot of Choshuu Ishin Shishi samurai were residing in her inn, and Kenshin was added to the roster. Then Katsura-san had asked one of the men, a stout and older samurai called Furutaka-san, to escort Kenshin around the town and show him where everything was.

Furutaka-san seemed like a kind and friendly man, and he had been a big help during those first few days. The city was just so large that if Kenshin had tried to learn the most important areas and parts alone, he would have been lost within the first hour.

After that, though... most of Kenshin’s first month had gone into sight-seeing, learning his way around the town, and meeting new people. Not that he had really talked to or made friends with the other men residing in the inn. He just wasn’t good at that sort of thing. And though the men certainly seemed nice enough, well… they were a lot older than him and seemed to always be in a group. It was just too intimidating to even think about approaching so many strangers at once.

What made things more awkward was that Katsura-san had warned him not speak of his future work to _anyone,_ not even to their own men at the inn. It was very, _very_ important to keep his task hidden as well as possible, and only those who needed to know would be told.

It was logical and Kenshin didn’t have trouble keeping his silence, but the thing was…

When people asked who he was and why such a young man was there, Kenshin really couldn’t tell them much. Just the fact he had been recruited by Katsura-san back in Choshuu and that he wasn’t anyone special. Oh, and his name was Himura, not “boy.”

So the summer days passed by quickly, with exploring and dodging curious people.

Thankfully, Katsura-san had been around the inn every now and then. It had been nice to see at least one familiar face, even if the older samurai was busy working and going to meetings with his new bodyguard, Katagai-san.

The burly samurai had been promoted to the post right after Katsura-san left him at Okami-san’s inn.

Frankly, Kenshin had been put off by being so casually dismissed from the task. It wasn’t like he couldn’t guard Katsura-san, too! However, Katsura-san had calmly explained that it was to give him time to become familiar with the town. And then, when the situation arose... he would need to be free for his first _job_.

The wait was making Kenshin anxious, truly.

He knew what was coming, he knew that when Katsura-san needed someone killed…  Kenshin’s hand would strike the blow.

But somehow, when on one perfectly normal morning at the beginning of eighth month, Katagai-san came to ask him to join Katsura-san to tea, Kenshin still managed to be surprised at being handed a black envelope with a name inside.

Kenshin fingered the oddly colored paper nervously and glanced up at Katsura-san.

The leader of the Choshuu Ishin Shishi was looking directly into his eyes. “I need you to kill this man. He is a messenger delivering information. He will be heading to the Nanzen-ji temple this afternoon. Wait on the way and kill him before he gets there.”

Kenshin swallowed, and then simply nodded. _This is it._

 

* * *

 

The road to the secluded temple was quiet.

The spot Kenshin had chosen for his ambush was in a grove of trees surrounding the road, their leaves sheltering him from the sweltering heat. Nearby stood the tori-gate, guarding the beginning of the long staircase that lead to the temple grounds.

It was impossible to keep track of the time or estimate how long he had already laid in wait. He was completely wired, trying to focus on all flickers of ki in his sensing range. But so far, there hadn’t been a whiff of anyone in the area.

_Why am I so nervous?_

Kenta, too, seemed to feel his anxious energy and it moved restlessly on its side of the wall, eagerly waiting for a right moment to slip through.

The sun was nearing the high position of midday. No one had come or gone by on the road. Kenshin was completely alone.

_But why no one is here?_

_Shouldn’t there be visitors to the temple? Or at least someone passing by on the road? This isn’t that far from the main routes…_

_Maybe this place was chosen because it’s so secluded? To make sure that there would be no mistakes?_

_...But if anyone came, how could I be sure that it’s the right guy, anyway?_ Kenshin frowned. All he had been given was a name: Mochizuki Inoue. How could he actually recognize the man from that?

And just what had the man done that he had to be killed? Or was his death ordered just because he was a messenger carrying important information that the Ishin Shishi and Katsura-san needed?

 _No, that doesn’t make sense._ _If it were so, I would have been asked to bring the messages after the deed._

_So, no..._

_I was simply asked to kill the man. But, why?_

Before Kenshin could think through the matter more, Kenta nudged at him. ‘Someone is coming!’

And then, Kenshin noticed it too. A hint of a presence in the sea of ki, just down the road and closing in. A tiny flicker, really. Not worth much notice. It was hurried, but so unfocused…

The silhouette of a man appeared in the distance, walking towards him hastily, like he had urgent matters to get to.

_It’s the right place…_

Kenshin glanced at the sky, checking the position of the sun – midday. _So it’s the right time, too. But how can I be absolutely certain this is the right man, and not some innocent bystander?_

Frowning, Kenshin hesitated… and then stepped into the road.

The man saw him and stopped abruptly, putting a hand on his sword while loudly demanding, “Who are you?”

The words were a bit unclear, spoken strangely. It was like some of them ended differently, but nevertheless the meaning of the question was crystal clear.

“Himura.”

Kenshin didn’t know why he answered. Maybe it was because he still kept expecting a tongue lashing from Master every time he didn’t answer a direct question…

In front of Kenshin, the man relaxed and let his hand fall off his sword. “Get out the way then, idiot!”

And he started walking towards Kenshin.

_What…? This isn’t how it’s supposed to go! Hey…!_

“Are you Mochizuki Inoue-san?” Kenshin asked hesitantly, a bit annoyed by the man’s easy dismissal of him.

The man stopped again, and gave him a weird look. “Yeah... what of it, kid?”

_…This is the right man... the right spot and the right time. So, now I will have to kill him...?_

‘Focus’ Kenta whispered, nudging at him encouragingly. ‘We can do this.’

Kenshin swallowed, and drew his sword.

The man, Mochizuki-san, immediately gripped his sword too, stepping into a nondescript fighting stance. “What the hell is going on, kid? Just let me pass and I won’t have to hurt you.”

Kenshin looked directly at the man, and tried to gather his resolve. _Katsura-san told me to do this. He asked me if I could do this, and I’ve always boasted that yes, I can. I have been training my whole life for this._

_But why does it feel so difficult?_

“I have been told to kill you.” Kenshin tried to explain to the man, desperately buying time.

Mochizuki laughed. “You? You have been told to kill me?”

“Yes.” Kenshin answered, and blushed in embarrassment. _This really isn’t going like I thought it would._

All of the sudden, the man’s ki focused and aimed at him. It was ridiculously weak compared to Master. Even when compared to Takasugi-san or Katsura-san, it didn’t feel like much... but it was deadly serious.

And then Mochizuki growled, “If you don’t get out of the way, I will kill you. Kid or not… if you are here with that purpose you must have been sent by those Ishin Shishi terrorists. My lord will be pleased when I will bring him your head.”

When the man saw no answer to his threat, he charged with his sword held high, obviously going for the standard _kesarigi_ – the scarf cut to the shoulder.

For Kenshin, it was like seeing things in slow motion: the movements, the intent – everything in the attack was almost pathetically sluggish. Instantly, Kenta pushed ki through to his side of the wall, and Kenshin felt it trickling in and focused…

He dodged the strike to the side, dashed around…  

Mochizuki turned a bit, tried to see where he had gone… but he didn’t know enough to look _up_. Kenshin was already coming down from his high leap with a _perfect_ Ryu Tsui Sen aimed to the head.

The blade cut, cut…

…and cut, until it stopped to the middle of Mochizuki’s chest.

A thud.

Reflexively, Kenshin twisted the blade lodged between the cartilages and bones and pulled – blood sprouted out.

 _Oh… that’s what it looks like when my favorite strike hits a man,_ Kenshin idly observed. The corpse’s head and upper chest were cleanly cleaved through, and there was a pool of blood and bits of other miscellaneous matter he couldn’t even begin to name spreading on the ground.

 _Why can’t I feel a thing? Or hear, or smell anything?_ It felt like Kenshin was encased in a cocoon, blocking everything out. He turned to look at the sky…

Then the tangy, familiar smell of blood hit him in a monster wave… _Oh god, it’s flowing in through my nose… What’s blocking my throat? Why can’t I breathe?_ Kenshin slapped a hand to his mouth and nose trying desperately to stop the invading smell.

‘Breathe... breathe….’

It was Kenta..?

_Petting comfort feeling._

_Oh god!_

Inhale…

Exhale…

Petting comfort feeling just continued.

Inhale... exhale…

‘Yes.’

 _I... this isn’t too hard._ Kenshin thought as he got into the rhythm of breathing. _I can do this._

Above him, the sky was so clear.

Then, Kenta nudged him, again. ‘Focus! Another one is coming!’

Running steps from behind him, and then an unfamiliar voice shouted, “Hey, you!”

Kenshin turned to look at the approaching man. He was a stranger, a tall, older man with short, messy beard stubble shading his face. His ki didn’t feel like a threat at all, it was so weak and unfocused, wavering... no, he definitely wasn’t a fighter.

“Who are you?” _Is that my voice? It’s… so weak and breathless. That doesn’t sound anything like me._

“I’m Iizuka, examiner of assassinations,” the man answered promptly, utterly confident as he crouched down to check the body. “This is your first assignment, right? Hold yourself together.”

_Examiner of assassinations, huh?_

_What’s he doing? Ugh, is he actually pinning something to the body..?_

_Huh. A paper, painted with ink…_

“There are some who become insane or make themselves sick after their first job,” the man continued with the same tone, not caring about Kenshin’s silent perusal at all. The paper read _Tenchuu –_ divine justice. A call sign of the Ishin Shishi, or so Kenshin had heard from listening to the rumors and talk in the streets.

_So, he is a comrade, then?_

Focusing, Kenshin tried to think an answer to the man’s roundabout question. “I’m fine. I’m stronger than I thought.”

And it was true, for when all was said and done, it was done; here was a corpse at his feet as a proof. The living memories that Kenshin had been half-afraid might appear hadn’t plagued him at all. He hadn’t felt _anything,_ really.

Just that slight difficulty with breathing, but Kenta had helped him through it.

Then the man, Iizuka-san, rose up and faced him properly. “Good. You need to be quick, accurate, and certain for this work.” He winked conspiratorially and offered him a bunch of paper.

_Why?_

_Oh.._.

Only now, Kenshin noticed that his sword was still covered in blood. _Didn’t Master used to always wipe his sword after killing?_ _Yes, that’s right…_

_“The blood can easily rust the blade and destroy even the finest steel. Only a dishonorable man doesn’t care for his sword. Remember this, if nothing else: the katana might be a simple weapon, but it’s a swordsman’s only protection and his most important possession. Without it, you are nothing. So care for your steel well and it will serve you faithfully.”_

“There is no point staying around after the work is done, so let’s get the hell out of here.”

…Dazed, Kenshin accepted the offered bunch of paper and carefully wiped the blade clean before sheathing it. Glancing up, he noted Iizuka-san looking at him expectantly a few paces away, already ready to go.

 _Oh, right…_ Kenshin nodded, and followed.

* * *

 

Iizuka-san escorted him all the way to the gates of the inn, before dismissing him with the explanation that he would need to report the successful completion of the job right away to Katsura-san. Lastly, the examiner remarked, with a pointed look at Kenshin’s chest, that a bath would be wise.

Kenshin was completely befuddled by the remark... before glancing down, that is.

His dark blue kimono had tiny, dark droplets sprayed all over it. They couldn’t be anything else but blood. It wasn’t enough to obviously drench the cloth, but some of it had trickled down his chest and spread with his sweat.

Suddenly, a feeling of utter disgust swept over him and the smell of blood started to fog his nostrils again. Kenshin closed his eyes, and covered his face in his hands, trying to concentrate on breathing: in and out… in and out.

_How come I didn’t notice the blood before?_

_Oh god…. I need to get these clothes off, off, off – now!_

_Right NOW!_

Kenshin hurried to the backyard of the inn, to the furo and the well next to it. It was only afternoon, so the water in the bathhouse would be cold. Far too cold for most people to bathe, but it didn’t matter, not when he was covered in blood.

 _Oh god… it’s flowing down my skin...!_ Kenshin hastily tugged at the cloth of his kimono, but the ties wouldn’t loosen like they were supposed to!

_His lifeblood on me, by my hand…!_

Suddenly Kenshin couldn’t take the feeling any longer, and just dumped the bucket of cold well water right over his head. Just like that. It drenched all of his clothes.

Rapid inhales and exhales.

_Calm down, idiot!_

_No, no... why can’t I stop shaking?_

Kenshin drew another bucket, and dumped it over his head... and another.

And another.

It took quite a while before Kenshin managed to get his shaking under control, but by then other issues became his priority. The slimy feeling of blood on his skin hadn’t left, so Kenshin dashed inside the inn through the back door, ghosting along the empty corridors to his room in search of a change of clothes.

Back in the bathhouse, this time he actually managed to pry open the wet ties of the sash and bindings of his hakama, followed quickly by the rest of his clothing. The soap that was available in the bathhouse was of good quality, but even though Kenshin kept scrubbing himself, time and time again, he never felt clean.

When he finally managed to get dressed in his fresh set of clothes… he couldn’t help but notice the wet and bloody bundle on the floor.

At the sight, shivers raced through him... bringing a feeling of gut-wrenching shame along with them. He didn’t know why, he just had to get the clothes clean, too. He dragged another bucket of cold well water and began washing his dirtied kimono in it. However, it didn’t help much, not even when Kenshin scrubbed and scrubbed. It seemed like the dark red droplets had seeped into the cloth and stained.

The sun was lowering in the sky, the shadows growing longer.

And suddenly, Kenshin couldn’t see any difference between the stain and the cloth, the colors fading into sameness in the dark of the dusk.

_Huh, it’s evening._

_…Already?_

_How long have I been here?_ Kenshin blinked owlishly, and for the first time in hours noticed his surroundings. Behind the courtyard’s fence, the sounds of city-life echoed and the lanterns were being lit. At the inn, people were moving.

Kenshin swallowed. Still feeling out of it, he glanced down. His hands were all wrinkly... and his skin felt very tender and dry.

_Why didn’t I notice before?_

But the clothes... If he squinted, he could still make out traces of bloodstains.

_Why..? Why couldn’t they just wash out?_

“Himura-kun, what are you doing out here?”

Kenshin jumped like a scared cat, spinning around, only to see the old lady that kept the inn – Okami-san – looking worriedly at him from the doorway.

He glanced aside, already reddening in embarrassment. It was beyond the pale for him to be caught by surprise, not to mention to be found lacking in the chore he had been doing for years… but she might have an idea of what to do about the stains. “I am trying to wash my kimono.”

The old lady walked to him, “Why? Don’t tell me you have forgotten where to put out the laundry for us to take care of it. Laundry is not a man’s job.”

 _Oh, right…_ Kenshin stood up, and clutched the wet kimono in his hands. If it were possible to be even more embarrassed, right then he would have been. It was absolutely _mortifying_ to be admonished by the kind old lady.

“It’s just, there was blood and I wanted to get it off…” He trailed awkwardly.

“Well, hand me those and I will take care of it. Now, in you go, Himura-kun. The dinner is waiting.” And with those words, the innkeeper took the bundle of clothes from his hands, wrung out the excess water, and headed back inside muttering under her breath.

Kenshin stared at her back, shuffling his feet uncertainly.

_Food? Now..?_

Right then, the last thing on Kenshin’s mind was eating! But in the inn, the dinner was served at specified times. So, hesitantly, he headed back in.

His last meal had been a scant breakfast over a half a day ago. By now, Kenshin should have been ravenously hungry, but he just... wasn’t. For some reason, the food tasted bland and unappetizing. It didn’t make sense. So far, every single meal at the inn had been excellent and even now, all around him, the other men were talking freely and eating with gusto.

Yet, for the life of him... Kenshin couldn’t manage a bite.

However, if he didn’t eat, he would definitely feel worse. Kenshin knew hunger intimately and he knew exactly how bad he would feel if he didn’t eat. So slowly, he forced himself to swallow, chewing every single mouthful thoroughly and washing it down with tea.

Thankfully, no one paid any attention to him and he managed to get almost a quarter of his tray down by the time the dinner was finished.

It was too late to head out into town. However, Kenshin didn’t have anything else to do, not really. So hesitantly, he headed upstairs to his corner room.

_Why do I feel so restless?_

Perhaps, he could have gone to do his kata in the backyard – it was something he did every now and then. But for some reason, the very thought of picking up his sword felt very distasteful.

_I love my sword._

_I love swordsmanship._

_I love doing the kata._

These were facts of which Kenshin was dead certain. Yet, right now, he couldn’t bring himself to pick up his sword and head back outside.

Feeling exhausted and oddly out of balance, like he was somehow ill-fitting even in the empty room, Kenshin glanced at his thick, soft bedding. It lay neatly-folded in the corner of the room. So far, he hadn’t managed to use it even once. No matter how inviting it looked, he hadn’t managed to relax when lying down, not when there were always so many people around. It didn’t feel _safe._

Just the mere thought of trying again, being keyed-up like this.... it felt laughable.

Kenshin sighed, finally settling to sit against the stack of books piled near the wall, just underneath the window sill. The solid wall of books felt comforting against his back. He propped his katana against his shoulder, at an easy reach, and turned to stare at the horizon.

The sun had set. Already, a few stars could be seen among the dark hues of blue. It was calming… perhaps? At least it didn’t feel quite like something was crawling inside his skin anymore.

 _Today… I killed a man_.

_I killed a man I didn’t know, just because I was told to do it. And I actually did it, just like I promised I would._

_And it was easy._

Well, the actual killing at least. But the start… Kenshin scowled at the embarrassing memory.

_I just wanted to be absolutely sure I had the right guy!_

_But when he saw me, he didn’t take me seriously at all. Just because I happen to be bit young and slightly short…_ _He didn’t believe I was a killer._

Kenshin closed his eyes, and let out a long, exhausted sigh _._

 _…But when Mochizuki realized I was part of Ishin Shishi, he just attacked. Just like that, and I just reacted with Kenta, and…_  

Thank god he had Kenta! Because without the spirit.... _What if Iizuka-san had seen me freaking out after the kill?_

_Then, no one would take me seriously for sure!_

“Thank you,’ Kenshin though to the spirit with more than a little bit of relief. Kenta nudged him back, sending the petting feeling. The spirit was his best friend, truly. It stayed by his side through thick and thin _,_ just like it always had...

_I was so sure I could kill. I boasted about it, god knows how many times. But when I smelled the blood… it was just like drowning in a tsunami._

_No living memories, just that awful sticky feeling and the smell of blood._

Kenshin gritted his teeth, and hugged his arms around himself, hating this weakness of his already.

_It’s just blood – what’s so special about it?!_

_I’m not a little kid anymore!_

It was embarrassing to have such a strong reaction to a simple _odor._ Especially one that wasn’t even very strong.

After all, all men could kill.

Kenshin, too, had the skill for it. And now, he had promised to lend his strength to the Ishin Shishi. To Katsura-san.

_I need to be stronger than this – I can’t afford to break down! Especially not over a little thing like this! I’m not the little kid I was when I killed those samurai in Settsu. I’m not a pathetic little slave either!_

_I can kill!_

_I’m a fighter! A soldier! Just like the rest of the men here._

Kenshin bit his lip, and with his knuckles bleeding white from the sheer force with which he gripped the blade, he drew it from its sheath by a handspan.

The steel was clean.

He tilted it slightly, just enough to see his reflection. His pale, unnatural eyes were narrowed in determination.

_Good._

_I can do this. I can lend my sword to Katsura-san._

And so Kenshin closed his eyes, determined to fall asleep.

 

 


	5. Demon among us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: If someone was waiting for "fall to the madness"... well, wait no more. Be warned that in this chapter there is occasionally very questionable logic as Kenshin's path is starting to take toll on him. However, the good news is that after this plunge to teen angst, things will slowly, but surely, start to change.
> 
> Special thanks for Animaniacal-laughter for beta reading this. 
> 
> Also thank you for all of your lovely reviews! 
> 
> Warnings: violence, murder and Kenshin's terrible life choices.

# Chapter 18. Demon among us

 

Every night following Kenshin’s first assassination was a struggle. Often, he would wake up gasping from the dreams of blood, screams and shouts – leftover in his mind as a random mix of nearly indistinct voices.

The dreams from which he did recall the words were even worse, in their own way. It wasn’t just Mochizuki-san’s final moments that would repeat before his eyes, but far older memories, too. Those two samurai in Settsu gurgling in their death throes, little Miya screaming wildly, her eyes wide in terror… and Kasumi, the girls, and other slaves dying before him, just like they had all those years ago.

Frankly, it was embarrassing to have these nightmares.

So in the following days, Kenshin forced himself to run through his kata for hours. If he attracted an audience, he would escape to the town, wandering until his nervous energy was spent and he was exhausted enough to _sleep_.

It worked.

Well, in the sense that he was no longer in danger of waking in the middle of the night screaming his lungs out. No, instead he woke at the slightest noise, feeling like he was drowning in blood. Almost like he was suffocating on it.

It was disgusting. Thank god Kenta was there to help him calm down.

 _The other men would think I’m a weak little kid if they knew._ Kenshin thought, scowling at the thin paper walls separating his corner room from his neighbors. The walls didn’t hide any noises, a fact he was already all too familiar with – after all, he could hear the others perfectly well, even when he didn’t want to.

However, if there was a mixed blessing in the manner his nightmares had chosen to manifest, it was the fact that they weren’t as bad as they had been in his childhood. No, Kenshin much preferred drowning in blood every night to crying out and wetting his bed. He really didn’t want to consider how humiliating _that_ would be.

Kenshin shook his head and wrapped his arms around his knees. _No, the nightmares will pass._

_They always do. I just…have to get used to this, that’s all._

However, even that resolution didn’t help when the time came for his second assassination.

Katsura-san had invited him to tea, and then proceeded to hand him the name of a government official, warning him that the old man tended to travel with a bodyguard. Kenshin had nodded numbly, before asking for a better description of the men, just in case.

After all, the last thing he wanted was to repeat the mess that had tarnished his first job.

Katsura-san had obliged him, simply nodding in understanding and then listing the most significant characteristics of the man and his favored retainers, as if he was describing people he knew personally. It was all very efficient. Then, before he had time to ask, Katsura-san continued, telling him exactly why these men needed to be killed and finally… he reminded Kenshin that _no one_ could know of his existence.

The implication of those carefully chosen words was clear. If anyone saw him in the act, they too would have to die.

So Kenshin had headed to the politician’s planned route to lay in wait. The place selected for the ambush was on the outskirts of the city, on a secluded street. He had planned the whole thing in advance, to insure the kill would go smoother than last time, and so he wouldn’t have time to hesitate. He had even sworn that no blood would touch him. After all, the blood had been the cause of him almost breaking down last time.

The right time, the right place – and then, the right man had come along, escorted by his burly bodyguard.

…But still, it had been so hard to just go and kill them.

Both of the men’s ki presences had been almost _pathetic_. The old politician’s presence was barely even there, it was so weak and wavering. And the bodyguard? Slightly better… but still, not a threat. Right from the first glance Kenshin had known he wouldn’t have any trouble killing these men. Two against one? No, even that wouldn’t matter. It was like these men were even weaker than the samurai he had faced in Settsu when he was eleven…

The men had walked right past his hiding spot, totally oblivious to the danger, while he had been battling against himself… and they had almost gotten away. When Kenshin realized it, he sprinted after them and cut them down. Just like that.

It had been easy, like child’s play.

There hadn’t been any blood spilled on his clothes… but the politician had had time to scream. Somehow that wordless noise made Kenshin feel even worse. The man’s terror lingered in his memories far longer than the smell of blood.

Iizuka-san had found him there, staring at the men he had cut to pieces, trying to keep breathing. The examiner had merely patted him on the back and said, “Good job.” Then, he had pinned Ishin Shishi’s call sign, the _Tenchuu_ note, to the corpses.  

It seemed a disrespectful act, all around. To the dead, and to the people who would see them.

But Kenshin knew the main reason these kills were ordered was to threaten the Bakufu. For that to work, they would need to know who was responsible. After all, there were numerous revolutionary groups in the Capital. The Choshuu Ishin Shishi was merely one of many.

Katsura-san seemed to be talking, wheedling information, and negotiating alliances with them almost every day.

Kenshin couldn’t say that he was surprised when some time later, Katsura-san told him that he needed to leave the Capital on business. While his leader was away, Iizuka-san would give his orders and handle any problems that he might have. Concerning practicalities, Kenshin’s stay in Okami-san’s inn was paid for and he would be getting a monthly stipend, just like the other Choshuu samurai fighting for the cause.

His job just included killing people on orders.

The only problem with the arrangement was that Kenshin didn’t much like Iizuka-san. The older man had a sort of two-faced feel to him, like his face and ki were telling completely different stories. Iizuka-san’s face was friendly, confident and able… but his ki was wavering, weak and hesitant. It was quite similar to the duality of Katsura-san’s ki, but in reverse: Iizuka’s outer friendliness masked weakness instead of strength.   

Or perhaps he was just making things too complicated again? What did it matter what he thought about his closest superior? Katsura-san had asked him to do this, and he would do it… because it was all for their shared goal, to create a world where people could live in peace and happiness.

So Kenshin nodded, and that was it.

After that, the jobs seemed to come at an increased pace. First it had been once every week or so. Then it was twice, then even three jobs a week.

His nightmares seemed to be a nightly event.

It was practically impossible to exhaust himself completely, just so he could sleep better. No matter how hard he tried to train alone in the backyard… it just wasn’t working. Besides, training alone seemed so pointless. Running around the town? He had already learned his way around the streets and he didn’t have that much extra money or the need to buy useless things. He wasn’t one to engage strangers in talk, either. But sometimes…. sometimes it was relaxing to simply watch people.

The only problem was that it didn’t do anything to tire him out.

No, he needed to figure out how to sleep better. Preferably before he totally wrecked his sleeping pattern. It was bad enough to stay awake all night nervous about a new job, but what if people found out he was having night terrors like a little kid?

Kenshin scowled. He wasn’t a kid. He really wasn’t. Even if he happened to still be small like one.

Speaking of sleeping, his soft futon remained neatly folded in the corner of his room. He still hadn’t managed to use it. Not when he was keyed up like this, hearing people all around him and knowing all that awaited him in dreamland were blood and screams.

One evening, Kenshin noticed Kasumi’s top sticking out of his travel bundle. It just was a child’s toy, but seeing it… he remembered her. Not her dying gasps or the unseeing eyes he had closed before burying her, but good things. Her maternal soft voice, how she had comforted him, allowed him to be a child a little longer. It was shameful, but he was so sick and tired of feeling like this, not being able to sleep, that he swallowed his embarrassment and tied the yarn around the top and set it spinning. The merry colors spun wildly, merging together and creating a rainbow.

It was like something was stuck in his throat, constricting his breath. But he did it again, setting his top spinning once more.

Little by little, the feeling passed, leaving behind a strange tranquility. He didn’t feel so restless anymore. No, instead it seemed, if he just leaned against his stack of books and clutched his sword in his arms….  

He was dead to the world before another thought could arise.

The next morning, he woke up at sunrise, hearing the servants passing down the corridors. He was distantly aware that he had dreamed of blood and screams again. But somehow, it hadn’t been so bad, now that he could recall Kasumi’s soft voice whispering, “Live Shinta. Live. Live for me!”

It was just a little thing… but it made the nightmares almost bearable.

After that, he kept the top close to him. Always.

Somehow, the job seemed a little easier, after that. The spirit was his unquestioning support whenever he needed it, and rest of the time… he was learning how to cope with things.

…Or maybe he was just getting used to the job.

However, one afternoon, late in the autumn, Iizuka-san gave him a black envelope carrying the name Shiomi Daisuke.

It wasn’t exactly a rare name, but it reminded him of something…

As if struck by lightning, Kenshin’s eyes widened.

_Osumi!_

Osumi-san’s family name had been Shiomi.

It had to be a coincidence, but still, Kenshin found himself asking, “Shiomi? From Matsue?”

“How did you know that?” Iizuka-san scoffed in disbelief. “Yes, the target is Shiomi Daisuke of Matsue. He is here negotiating an alliance on behalf of his lord. They are planning on supporting Bakufu and we cannot have that. No, we need to make an example of them. However, this will not be an easy job – Shiomi will have at least three bodyguards. Can you handle it?”

It was like a stone had dropped to the pit of his stomach, and all Kenshin could think of was Osumi-san.

But the thing was, he had never heard of any Daisuke, not on any of the many trips he and master had taken to visit Osumi-san in Matsue. The man could be Osumi-san’s relative, or… hadn’t Osumi-san remarried? This Daisuke could very well be her husband.

Kenshin swallowed in veiled panic. He had no way of knowing.

Iizuka-san wouldn’t know who the men they needed to assassinate were married to. It wasn’t important information, not for the Ishin Shishi.

_But, but… how could I kill him? How could I do that to Osumi-san?_

_There’s no way…_

But what if this Daisuke wasn’t even remotely connected to Osumi-san? After all, Kenshin couldn’t be _sure_. And it was for the cause. It was on Katsura-san’s orders. And, and… he had promised to kill any man Iizuka-san named for him. It was for the betterment of the people, for the new era.

Iizuka-san was looking at him oddly.

 _Why? Err, right… he asked something._ _What was it..?_

_Oh…_

“Yes, I can handle it.” Kenshin murmured. Three bodyguards, five bodyguards… it made no difference. All these samurai were so weak and slow. Hiten Mitsurugi was built to pit one against many. He hadn’t had any trouble thus far, even with multiple targets.

So that night when he settled to wait for the targets, Kenshin was uneasy. Doubts kept bothering him and when he finally saw the group of samurai approaching his ambush spot, he couldn’t focus properly. The street they had chosen for the job was near the city center, one of the narrower streets in the older part of the town. There were people around them, but far enough away that no one should see or hear anything.

It was near midnight. The right spot and undoubtedly the right targets.  

_Why am I still hesitating?_

Kenshin tried to focus… but for some reason, even Kenta was having trouble finding the cracks in the wall separating them to push through the ki.

It was the worst thing.

But the men were coming closer… and he really, really had to kill them.

Kenshin swallowed. He didn’t know which of the four samurai was his target. They were all dressed similarly enough, and it was too dark to recognize for sure the features that Iizuka-san had spent time describing to him. But even from a distance, he could recognize the shape of the crest on their clothes, the same one he had seen as a child in Osumi-san’s house.

He couldn’t let these men get away.

Iizuka-san was waiting. That was the reason there even was an examiner of assassinations, to ensure that the killer wouldn’t chicken out or fail, that the job would be completed successfully. If he let these men get away… Katsura-san would hear of it. He wouldn’t be trusted anymore.

What good was an assassin that let his targets get away?

And if he wasn’t trusted anymore, if he failed Katsura-san… he wouldn’t be allowed to help the Ishin Shishi anymore. He wouldn’t be allowed to fight for the new era as the other men were doing. As a student of Hiten Mitsurugi had to.

There was no question. He had to kill these men.

Kenta sensed his hesitation too, and nudged him worriedly. It was just enough for Kenshin to notice how late he was; the men had nearly reached the end of the street.

_No!_

Kenshin gasped in panic and sprinted after them, only managing to strike one of them down before the others saw him. In seconds, the narrow street became an unholy chaos.

There were three men and him, trapped between high walls that blocked the moon, trying to fight it out. There was nothing clean about it. Their shouts and screams echoed all around him and their dropped paper lanterns illuminated the street just enough that he could see the blood that sprouted from their wounds.

It was too much, way too much to handle and then, at the worst possible moment, his concentration wavered, cutting off Kenta… and his internal ki enhancement trick.

Suddenly, he wasn’t fast enough to dodge their strikes. His sword become too long and unwieldy to parry in the tight quarters. Kenshin gritted his teeth and pulled out his wakizashi with his left hand to block the strike coming at his right shoulder…

_Oh god, I could die here._

Seeing him held still by his comrade, another samurai screamed, charging at him, all his weight and reach behind the strike. The man was over a head taller than him, and he must have weighed more than double compared to his measly frame.

And in that moment, Kenshin couldn’t do anything but think: _I could die here. I could truly drown in blood._

‘NO!!!’ Kenta screamed at him and rammed against the wall, surging to his side – and _everything_ slowed down.

The strike he was was blocking with his wakizashi…

 _Yes, if I push like that.._ Kenshin pushed with all his strength, unbalancing the man holding him pinned and striking his shorter blade through his jaw, all the way to the soft brain.

Then, with both hands on his katana, he dashed around the corpse, and jumped… The tall, heavy samurai charging at him had no hope against his whirlwind strike.

“ _Ryuukansen: tsumuji_!”   

The last one standing was still holding his own… no, the man was stepping backwards. The abandoned, burning paper lanterns illuminated his face. It could be no other than Shiomi Daisuke.

The man looked absolutely terrified.

“Demon… red hair and yellow eyes. Oh gods, no…”

Kenshin stalked closer and sheathed his sword. Not out of hesitation. No, that had left him long ago. This man had to die. However, the fastest strike he knew was battoujutsu – the quick draw. It was a useless strike, anywhere except in duels. Or so he had always thought… but it was the fastest way to kill. And for Osumi-san, the woman who had been kind to him and who his master had liked so much, for her, he wanted to kill this man in the kindest way he knew.

Kenshin sprinted towards the man, and at the last moment, drew his sword with the godlike speed of Hiten Mitsurugi.

A thud… followed by another.

It was a clean strike, Kenshin observed idly. It had cleaved straight through the man, cutting him in two pieces, from left hip to right shoulder.

No matter his terror, Shiomi-san couldn’t have felt much pain.

At a distance, two presences approached him. One was Iizuka-san. Weak and wavering, like the man always was. But another was… Furutaka?

What was Furutaka doing here?

“Oh my god…” the older, stout samurai uttered in shock.

Iizuka-san merely grinned, and patted him on his wet shoulder. “Good job, Himura. I didn’t doubt you for a second!”

The wet touch felt disgusting. _He_ felt disgusting. “Don’t touch me,” Kenshin all but growled. “Please take care of this. I need to take a bath.”

But somehow, despite being covered in blood from head to toe… the scent of it wasn’t fogging his nostrils. Why? Why wasn’t he shaking desperately, trying to keep breathing like he usually did?

_I just… feel numb._

The feeling didn’t leave him as he made his way back to the inn, sticking to the shadows and avoiding people. It wouldn’t do for people to see him covered in blood. When he finally reached the bathhouse, he started by dumping a bucketful of cold well water on his head. It felt good. Fresh.

But why wasn’t he freaking out like usual?

Why was he feeling like this? This strange emptiness, like he was numb all over?

…Speaking of which, what had happened back there, exactly?

And where was Kenta?

Kenshin frowned, trying to concentrate. There was a slight pounding inside his skull that was becoming more noticeable.

He could feel the spirit, albeit in a somewhat muted way. There was the wall, but behind it… Kenta wasn’t there.

_Oh god…_

_Kenta isn’t there!_

In the fight, Kenta had pushed through the wall again, hadn’t it?

_No, no, no…_

Kenshin whimpered, clutching his head. The pulsing pain was getting worse. No, it was going to be just like before…

Falling to his knees on bare earth, Kenshin clutched his wet hakama with enough force that his knuckles bled white. He needed to concentrate, to pull Kenta back to its side of the wall.

_Yes, there is my coldness… and there, Kenta’s ki._

It was faint, but he knew it was the spirit. Was it already mixing with his own?

_What?_

_NO!_

_No, this can’t be happening!_

Gritting his teeth, Kenshin closed his eyes and focused, focused like he never had before and grasped at the sliver of Kenta. Painstakingly, slowly, he drew it to its side of the wall. Then another droplet. And another.

It was slow work. Just a trickle here and there… already, Kenshin was beginning to pant from the effort. But he needed to do it. What would he do without the spirit?

He couldn’t do this shitty job without the spirit!

Kenta was his cornerstone. It had been always there for him!  

So he searched and pulled and drew the droplets of the spirit’s coldness to its proper place. It was almost morning when he finally felt the best thing in his life: _the petting comfort feeling._

‘Here, here. Kenta is here.’

 _Thank god!_ Kenshin sobbed in relief.

 

* * *

 

Kenshin woke up on the floor of his room, feeling like death warmed over. His head was pounding, his neck felt stiff, and his eyes were dry. Idly, he rubbed them with the back of his hand. The sun was shining brightly – was it already midday? Had he slept through the whole morning? Why? And for that matter, why didn’t he feel like he was drenched in blood?

_What happened?_

Then it came back to him, everything.  

“Kenta!”

The petting comfort feeling answered.

_Oh, thank god! Kenta is alright._

Kenshin slouched back down, rubbing his aching neck awkwardly. He hadn’t slept on the futon, or against the bookstack like he usually did. Instead, he had just curled up on the floor. It was weird. He shoulders and back ached… Actually, he ached _everywhere_.

And he felt…. empty.

Kenshin rolled onto his back, lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling for a long while. It was almost nice, this feeling of emptiness. Kenta continued petting him, its coldness rubbing him gently through the wall – just being there for him.

His katana lay next to him, abandoned on the floor. It was filthy. There was blood on the handle again. Kenshin wrinkled his nose. That wouldn’t do at all.

_…And last night, didn’t I sheathe it, while it was still stained with blood?_

_Oh fuck!_

Scrambling to his feet, Kenshin dived toward his possessions and sorted through them hastily, trying to find his sword cleaning kit. If he didn’t take the katana apart completely, the blood could rust the blade! And what would he be without his blade? Nothing, that’s what!

A katana was the swordsman’s soul, Master had told him time and time again. If he ever heard how badly Kenshin had treated his sword, he would give him a tongue-lashing like no other!

So the whole afternoon, Kenshin cared for his sword. He took it apart diligently and cleaned it until it shone like new. It truly was a good weapon: simple but practical, almost elegant. Just from the surface, one would never know how good of a blade it truly was. It had been made just for him; Master had finally admitted getting it custom-made, because it had been impossible to find a ready-made sword suitable for Kenshin’s size, style and needs.

The katana was a tangible sign that Master had cared for him.

It was a beautiful blade and Kenshin loved it.

Yet, last night… he had disrespected it by not taking proper care of it.

Even so, he couldn’t help but feel it had been right to use battoujutsu. It had been the best death he could offer Shiomi-san.

‘Yes.’ Kenta whispered, nudging at him comfortingly.

There was no faster way to cut through a man than the godlike speed of quick draw with internal ki enhancement. It was the kindest way to kill, truly. It was as painless as possible. And now, if he and Kenta had to kill people, for the new era and for Katsura-san… then they should offer the men they killed this small kindness.

Kenshin nodded solemnly, staring at his shining sword. _Yes, whenever it’s possible… I will use battoujutsu._

It wouldn’t be easy, though. He frowned. With one target, it was the obvious choice, but with two? It would depend a lot on the situation. With larger groups… Kenshin paused.

_No, I will find a way. If I concentrate enough… I can do it._

Speaking of concentration, last night Kenta had slipped all the way through the wall… why?

Had it been because of his hesitations?

Instantly, Kenta nudged at him and showed him a memory. “You let your fears and doubts guide you, Idiot student.”

_…Oh. Hadn’t master said that to him right at the beginning?_

Kenshin’s gut clenched painfully with shame. He had almost lost Kenta because of his fears and doubts. Even now, he still hadn’t grown out of having such a childish weakness!

But last night, his hesitation had been because it had been Shiomi-san he had to kill. He still didn’t know if the man had any connection to Osumi-san… but did it matter? Even if he did, could Kenshin have avoided killing him?

The ugly truth was: no.

When Katsura-san commanded him to kill, when the black envelope came… he had to kill.

It was so simple.

Kenshin buried his face in his palms as the realization struck. It wouldn’t matter who the targets were, what they had done… or why they needed to be killed. If Katsura-san commanded it, he would kill them – for the new era.

Besides, so far the directions had always been right. There were no mistakes in his orders, the Ishin Shishi made sure of that.

Did he really need to know so much about his targets?

_No, I don’t._

After all, knowing led to thinking and thinking led to speculation… which made room for doubts and fears. He had almost lost Kenta because of those. Never again.

_It’s just killing… and I am good at that._

So Kenshin resolved to tell Iizuka-san, the next time he saw the man, that there was no need for him to know details about his targets. Just the location, time, and names. That was the only information he truly needed.

The fact was that Kenshin was good at  this. He could do this. He could fight for the cause, for the new era. He had always managed his kills properly. He had never been wounded, never had any troubles… he was good.

‘But yesterday we were better…’ the spirit whispered. ‘Together… on the same side.’

‘What..? What are you talking about?’ Kenshin countered in surprise.

‘You could start to lower the wall again. We were good together.’

_No, absolutely no way._

‘Don’t even think about it!’ Kenshin thought furiously back. ‘I couldn’t do this without you.’

‘Together… not alone.’

Yesterday, hadn’t they been faster together? Using their ki enhancement trick, they had failed. But together, they had been almost impossibly fast. Far faster than usual.

_But still…. no._

‘No.’ Kenshin thought firmly to the spirit.

Acceptance.

Caring.

Petting comfort feeling.

 

* * *

 

That evening, when it was time for dinner, Kenshin was feeling alright. The food tasted bland and he didn’t have much of an appetite, but that was the norm these days. He felt tired, every movement made his body ache… but it wasn’t a problem. All in all, things were almost good. He had Kenta, yesterday’s job had been completed successfully… and there should be no more envelopes for the next couple days.  

So Kenshin finished his meal, took his sword, and rose to leave. In the doorway leading out of the common dining room, he passed a few other men… and Furutaka-san. But instead of walking past him normally like the others, Furutaka stepped out of his way in a hurry, and stumbled—

Instinctively, Kenshin reached to steady the older man.

But instead of being grateful for the gesture, Furutaka stared at him with wide eyes, slapped his hand away and hissed, “Stay away from me, you unnatural freak!”

 _What?_ Kenshin gasped in shock, utterly stunned by the words.

It was so silent that he could hear Furutaka’s heaving breathing, like the man was genuinely furious. Swallowing, Kenshin looked away… only to notice that _everyone_ in the dining room had turned to stare at them.

_What’s going on? Why are they…?_

Then Furutaka turned around, and scrambled into the dining room in haste… and Kenshin was left standing there awkwardly. He swallowed slowly, and as calmly as he could, escaped upstairs.

Why had Furutaka done that?

The older samurai had been friendly enough to him earlier. He had spent hours in his company, showing him around Kyoto.

_…And unnatural? A freak?_

_Why?_

Yesterday night, hadn’t Furutaka been there, too? Alongside with Iizuka-san, he must have seen him covered in blood after that messy job…

… _Oh._

 

* * *

 

After that, it seemed that people did their best to avoid him. Furutaka was most obvious and vocal about it; even Kenshin had heard him telling others to stay “the hell away from that dangerous freak.” Furutaka seemed set on talking to everyone, telling them that while he couldn’t say what had happened… he had to be a good friend to the men and warn them about him.

Suddenly, Kenshin noticed that he wasn’t alone because he preferred it, that his loneliness wasn’t something he had chosen because he was hesitant to talk to strangers and didn’t know what to say to men so much older than him.

No. Now, even the people at the inn would stare at him suspiciously and seek to avoid confronting him. All of the sudden, there was always a spot left empty on both sides of him during dinner. When he walked in the hallways, people would make room for him and whisper. It wasn’t that they were afraid of him, not exactly… but all the same, everyone avoided him.

Iizuka-san hadn’t been of much help with it. After Furutaka had been a bit too loud about his opinions… the examiner had merely arranged for him to leave the inn. Which, of course, made others think Furutaka had been right about his suspicions.  

It made Kenshin feel lonely in the crowd like never before.

Feeling lonely was possibly the most stressful feeling in the world. It was getting harder to sleep and his nightmares flared up again.

And the worst thing?

He was busier with jobs than ever before.

Kenta kept suggesting that he start breaking down the wall again. It kept saying that they would be better together, that the wall was holding them back from growing stronger. Kenshin didn’t want to think about it. Kenta had always been there for him… and if he did break down the wall, wouldn’t that mean Kenta wouldn’t be there anymore?

He couldn’t do this alone!

The problem was, though, that the warm feelings hidden within the wall were incredibly tempting. Kenshin knew how comforting they were, all those feelings and memories of good things. And he was feeling so lonely.

Even Kasumi’s top was hardly any help these days.

But when Kenshin had created the hole in the wall, all those years ago… the things he had touched and moved away had disappeared. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t even remember the things he had touched back them. It was like, moving things away from the wall would erase them completely. But just touching them, that wouldn’t give him anything but tantalizing flashes.

But maybe… what if he merely lowered the wall? Just a little bit? It couldn’t be harmful, right? The wall would still be there between him and Kenta, and he could have the comfort of the memories and feelings stored in the wall.

So one night, when he was feeling particularly bad and lonely, Kenshin gingerly touched the wall, lifting one of the things that made it.

Instantly, _the_ _warmth of mother’s hug_ spread all over him.

He gasped, panting desperately for air. He had forgotten that feeling! It had been so long! Kenshin covered his eyes, and tried not to think about how much he had missed it… how good it had felt to feel unconditional love, to be touched.

In the silence, his eyes began to tear.

‘You need this’ Kenta whispered to him.

The spirit was right, of course.

He had been so alone lately. The job was horrible, and it was becoming too easy. He didn’t even think anymore, he just went out there and killed and killed and then killed some more. Even with his godlike speed, trying to use only battoujutsu… If there were many targets, they would have time to shout or scream. The memory of their blood lingered, seeping into everything.

He felt restless, high-strung these days. It was like he was covered in blood all the time. Even food was starting to taste like blood.  

But that feeling, oh god, it had felt so good! Maybe, at times like these… just every now and then, it would be okay to take comfort from the things hidden in the wall?

‘Yes.’ Kenta whispered, nudging at him. Then, it began petting him.

It was childish to cry.

_…But maybe, just for tonight, it would be okay?_

Kenshin cried until his eyes were dry.

 

* * *

 

The way people behaved at the inn, avoiding him and staring at him like he was some sort of monster, Kenshin really didn’t feel like spending any more time there than necessary. No, he very much preferred it when people didn’t notice him at all. So, he stayed in his room, or practised in the backyard at odd hours. Or more and more often, he would just go to town and watch people.

In the busy streets of Kyoto, he was just one among many. He wasn’t anything special and right now… it was the only thing he wanted to be: a nobody.

However, it seemed the city was slowly reaching a boiling point.

There were so many people, so many samurai from all over the country… and because of all the political chaos going on in the sidelines, it seemed many groups from both sides had been lured into the mess. The Ishin Shishi was very much divided and people didn’t seem to have a very good opinion of them. But neither did they like the Bakufu troops, such as the new policing group, the _Shinsengumi_.  

“Wolves of Mibu,” people called them, scowling at their flashy blue _haori_ overcoats, decorated with those bold white mountain stripes. A bunch of ronin and low class mercenaries, claiming that they would protect the city people in these turbulent times.   

Kenshin hadn’t yet seen any Shinsengumi nor had he come across them in his work. Mostly, his assassinations had been planned to be done in secluded areas. However, he had been having more and more jobs come his way; soon he might need to start working in the city. He didn’t like the thought. It might bring complications. What if some innocent bystander saw him at work?

No one was allowed to see him and walk away, Katsura-san had been very clear about that. But to kill innocents, just because they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time?

Even the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

_No, I can’t let it happen. Never._

After all, avoiding bystanders wasn’t outside of his capabilities. Kenshin knew how to sense ki, and no matter how difficult it was to focus on all the tiny flickers of ki in the city, he could make sure that the area was clear before going in.

Kenshin exhaled slowly. _Yes, I can do it. I have to._

 

* * *

 

It was a really nice day, late in winter. The sun was shining brightly and it didn’t matter that it was bit chilly. There wasn’t even a hint of snow. Well, it wasn’t like snow fell often this far in the lowlands, and it was quite nice. Kenshin felt perfectly fine dressed in his normal, everyday clothes.

The good weather reflected on the people around him, bringing many to the marketplace. Kenshin smiled sadly, enjoying their banter. It felt good being just one among many.

For these people’s sake he was doing this. For their happiness, for the new era.

“…And all those murders by that horrid battoujutsu killer,” someone said right behind him, whispering in a gossipy manner.

_What?_

“Yes, but they say that he only targets Bakufu officials and their bodyguards. Just cuts them all down. They say no one can stop him.”

_They are talking about…_

“I heard from the flower seller that he is called _Hitokiri Battousai_. It’s because because he cuts them all down, not caring about anything… and they say he does it all with the same strike. I don’t know anything of swordsmanship but my husband’s friend knows someone in the Shinsengumi, and he said all of it was done like that…”

_…about me?_

“But what if it’s just rumors? What if he isn’t like those Ishin Shishi terrorists… what if he kills anyone who comes across his path? Maybe no one is safe!”

“It’s terrible, indeed. But the worst thing is that no one knows what he looks like! They know nothing about him, just that battoujutsu thing…”

Kenshin blinked dazedly. And then, he didn’t know why… but he couldn’t help but head down the street, trying to listen in on all the rumors. Maybe it was just morbid curiosity, the horrifying realization that people were actually talking about him. It might just be a fluke, after all!

But it wasn’t.

Everywhere he went, people were talking about this manslayer, this uncompromising killer who cut down everybody in his path with the same strike: the Hitokiri Battousai.

Kenshin didn’t know what to think about it. It was bad enough that people were talking about him… but why were they so disturbingly accurate with their rumor mongering?

However, the more he thought about it, the easier it was to realize how the rumors had been born.

He had been doing jobs almost every other night. And just as he had decided, he had tried to use battoujutsu as often as he could manage. It worked perfectly fine on most nights. And when it didn’t, well… his mistakes had pushed him to learn new tricks. Nowadays, even when he faced groups, he hardly needed to use anything else.

But the thing was, quick draw was a very specific and easily recognizable strike in most sword schools. And Hiten Mitsurugi Battoujutsu? The speed, the power, the cutting ability, the wounds it left on the targets were unmistakable. So the people who found his kills, if they saw more than one… they could quite easily recognize the killer. And apparently, they proceeded to mention it to their friends and families, who in turn, seemed to delight in the gossip.

 _What a mess,_ Kenshin sighed bitterly.

To pour salt in an open wound, it seemed that Ishin Shishi appreciated the additional fame. At least if Iizuka-san’s happy crooning was anything to go by. “Yo Battousai, how does it feel to be the talk of the town?”

Kenshin looked aside sourly.

It was the worst thing he could have done. Because for whatever reason, Iizuka-san found it amusing and started calling him by that name all the time. “Himura Battousai,” indeed…

However, now that the work was increasing and rumors of hitokiri hunting down Bakufu officials were on everyone’s tongue… well, it seemed that every single one of his targets had doubled the amount of bodyguards they employed.  

It didn’t matter much, not when it came to his work. The constant practice had made him and Kenta more efficient, and lowering the wall seemed to made it easier to use their ki-trick.

Unfortunately, the increased amount of targets required him to have more observers, just in case things went awry. So instead of having to deal with only Iizuka-san and his quirky sense of humor, Kenshin had to endure the fearful gaping of two or three additional guys. Never for long, though.

He didn’t know why, but it seemed that watching his assassinations was a job no one seemed to like.

Well, no one except Iizuka-san.

So the helpers would rotate the duty. Kenshin didn’t even bother trying to learn their names after the first few. And the worst thing? It seemed that Iizuka-san’s fondness for his nickname had stuck with the other observers.

Reluctantly, Kenshin had to agree that it _was_ kind of catchy.

It was accurate, too, in a way. During the job he was a hitokiri – a manslayer. It was his duty to cut down everyone who saw him, not just his target like an assassin would. And Battousai? It meant master of quick draw. No matter how unintentional, Kenshin had become quite good at using the dueling strike lately. So, maybe it was proper. An alias… just like the name “Himura.”

Maybe he should give up resisting and simply become this Himura Battousai everyone seemed think he was.

After all, it best described what he was now.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long before he was doing jobs in the city.

Kenshin wasn’t particularly happy about it, but he understood the necessity. The officials didn’t dare take trips out of town anymore, at least not without heavy protection. No, instead it was far more practical to target them in the city where they thought they were safe.

It was just, he didn’t want to become what the rumors suggested, a bloodthirsty killer out to kill everyone who came across his path. So, Kenshin tried to be really, really careful about checking his targets and the area before going in for the kill. There could be no mistakes. Not with this.

There was already enough blood on his hands.

To ensure this, Kenshin had taken to listening in with his ki hearing trick to determine if his targets really were the right ones. Especially during nights like this, when they couldn’t be sure of the target’s planned travel route.

Kenshin was hiding in a shadowed corner of the street. There were dozens of ki flickers in his range, but none of them were particularly near or flaring in curiosity. No, even the closest ones seemed muted in sleep. It was as safe as it could be for a job this near the city center.

Then a pleasant, young man’s voice remarked anxiously, “It’s getting late. We should hurry a bit.”

It was just across the street and getting closer!

“Lately there have been more of those _hitokiri_.” A lower voice remarked, speaking in a firm, confident tone.

_Ah.. that voice, it must belong to the strong ki-presence._

Out of the three, only that one showed promise as a fighter. Not dangerous enough to be a threat, but he should be taken care of first.

“Like the so-called _Hitokiri Battousai_?” Another remarked with a scratchy, older man’s voice.

 _Hmm, so most likely, that is my target._ Kenshin stalked closer, intent on listening a bit more. Just so he could be _sure_.

“Whether he exists or not, we will crush the rebels soon.”

“Now now, let’s not talk shop when we have a reason to celebrate. Kiyosato, you are going to be married next month, aren’t you?”

“That’s right…”

 _Is that young guy supposed to be a bodyguard? His voice is so hesitant and young…. he doesn’t sound like he would be able to guard a kitten._ Kenshin frowned, a bad taste rising to his mouth. He hated killing targets like this one. And the guy was getting married?

This was exactly why he didn’t want to know details about his targets anymore!

But he couldn’t move in, not yet – not before he got confirmation. Was the older guy Shigekura Jubei? These days, every guy with even the slightest bit of influence employed bodyguards. And while this place matched Iizuka-san’s predictions, it was a bit too early.

“Marrying your beautiful childhood sweetheart, you lucky dog.”

“Thank you. But I can’t help worrying, in these troubled times, why should I…”

“What are you talking about? In this world, everyone’s trying to find a little happiness. If anything, if we make a new age with this work of ours, that’s the form it should take.”

_…Work of ours?_

Kenshin tensed, and risked looking at them, trying to see their clothes. His heart sank, when he noted that yes, indeed, the older man wore the correct clan insignia and his guards were both from the Mimawarigumi, the more respected of the Bakufu’s policing forces in Kyoto.  

Exhaling softly, Kenshin stepped out in the open. “You must be Shigekura Jubei.”

All three of his targets spun around in surprise.

The left Mimawarigumi member really was young. He couldn’t even be in his twenties yet, and he was getting married… Kenshin didn’t like this at all. He hadn’t wanted to know that piece of information. But now that he knew, he couldn’t help but pity the man.

Still, he needed to do this. He didn’t have a choice. So he tried to explain it to them. “I bear you no grudge, but for the sake of the new era, I must have your deaths.”

The young bodyguard and the old man were both caught off guard by his words. However, the strongest, the heavily built and experienced fighter on the right, didn’t let his surprise control him. Instead, he reached for his sword and demanded, “Who are you?”

Maybe because of his bad habit of answering direct questions, or simply because it would have been rude not to answer, Kenshin said, “Choshuu Ishin Shishi. Himura Battousai.”

Then, he gripped his sword, concentrated…and once Kenta flowed over to his side, he sprinted.

His first strike, the battoujutsu, went to the most dangerous guy. The heavy man was too slow to react, he simply dropped dead in two pieces, just like they all did.

Kenshin turned and jumped, coming down with “ _Ryuutsuisen: zan_!”

The piercing strike from above sank into the skull of the old man like chopsticks into rice paste. The target was dead.

Now, concerning the last one…

Kenshin twisted his sword, pulling it out.

“Shigekura-san! Ishiji-san!” The young guard screamed in shock, his eyes wide as saucers from sheer terror. The way he held his sword was laughable. Even as a child holding a sword for the very first time, Kenshin had done better.

_…And this is the guy who is getting married._

It was so _pathetic_.

 _What is the point in killing this guy, anyway?_ Kenshin thought morosely as he charged. His own strike was weak and slow, far slower than usually – but still, if the guard had been a fraction of a second slower, he wouldn’t have had time to block.

Kenshin’s sword was at to the guard’s throat, held back by that shaky block. If he pushed just a little, he could easily slit the guy’s throat and be done with it. It was all too easy.

_I really don’t want to do this._

“Give up.” Kenshin heard his own voice saying.

_Yes, what if this guy, just a boy really… what if he just gave up? No one knew how many bodyguards Shigekura-san would have. And it’s dark, this boy can’t have seen much of me, not enough to be a threat to the Ishin Shishi…_

_If he just ran away now, he could live and get married._

_The Ishin Shishi doesn’t need his death. No one will benefit if he dies here…_

However, before Kenshin could find the words to explain even a fraction of these musings, all of the sudden the boy’s eyes focused. Like he had just realized something…. and then, the boy pushed _back_.  

The young man was in his late teens or early twenties. He was a head taller than Kenshin and more importantly, _a lot heavier_. In a battle of physical strength, it was no contest. The Mimawarigumi guard pushed him and his blade aside with ease.  

 _…Huh._ Kenshin frowned.

And before his eyes, the guard settled into an attacking stance. He was sweating heavily, but his gaze was focused. Determined.

_Well… shit._

Kenshin knew that look. He had seen it often enough in his own reflection, when he needed to make a decision. This guy wouldn’t give up, not anymore.

_…But I don’t want to do this._

Maybe because of his torn feelings, Kenta hesitated too… and let go of their ki- enhancement trick. They would overpower this guy badly enough even when it came to basic swordsmanship. There really was no point in using the godlike speed, was there?

And then, the guard attacked. His strike was slow, but it was executed cleanly. This boy’s teacher would be proud to see him handling his nerves this well, Kenshin thought while blocking. He dodged around the guard, and yes – good. Again, he needed to defend. On the next pass, the guard was even better, more focused and desperate… but during his next charge, Kenshin saw a perfect opening.

It was instinct, nothing more. From his early childhood, every time he saw an opening like that, he had been told to attack it with his best shot. It had been a common training tactic with Master and no matter what he had tried, not one of his strikes had ever gone through.

So Kenshin took the opening and _cut_.

His blade cut through… not as fast, nor as clean as it would have with the ki enhancement boosting his strength, but it cut cloth and skin, causing flesh and blood to sprout out.

A flash of pain flared on his cheek.

_..What?_

His left cheek was hurting? And there was wetness, flowing down his jaw to his throat? Kenshin raised his hand to it, and looked at his fingers.

It was blood.

_…Oh._

Behind him, the young man who had cut him had fallen to the ground, struggling to crawl to his sword. He was crying, mumbling to himself, “I don’t want to die… not yet… not yet…”

And as if the haze shrouding him had been lifted, Kenshin swallowed in panic.

_I did that._

His stomach twisted, like a dozen snakes coiling tight and he felt like he was going to throw up.  

“…was… finally going… to marry her….can’t die… not yet…”

Kenshin swallowed, once, twice… before gripping his sword. That boy was already dead, he just didn’t know it yet. Bleeding like that, his blood and guts spilling out from his left side, was an ugly way to die.

It would take a while.

This was the exact reason why Kenshin had tried his best to make his kills as fast possible, to spare his targets this kind of pain. But through his hesitation, he had managed to cause unnecessary suffering, yet again.

The shame of it was nearly overwhelming.

. _..Again, because of my hesitations._

No, this really wouldn’t do.

“…would have… loved… her… forever….”

The only reason Kenshin killed was for the happiness of innocents. And even if he couldn’t have avoided killing this young man, this boy… at least he should have been kind enough to kill him _quickly_.

“To… Mo…. e….”

Kenshin walked to the boy slowly until he was standing above him, his legs spread on both sides of the boy’s gurgling head, still mumbling words… and then, he struck his blade through the junction of that neck and twisted, just so.

Silence.

At a distance, two ki presences approached hesitantly… the examiners. Fairly new guys, these two. But where was Iizuka-san? Well, to be fair, Iizuka-san had been quite busy lately, so he shouldn’t expect the man to check every single one of his many jobs…

“We have come to check…”

Kenshin flicked most of the blood from his sword before sheathing it. Then, he nodded at the new guys. “Thank you for examining them.”

“Your cheek!” one of them gasped, pointing at him in shock.

Kenshin looked aside. “It’s nothing.”

The fact was, the wound didn’t hurt, not when there was this ache in his heart and the shame of his failures kept twisting his stomach. No, compared to those, the little pain in his cheek was nothing. And blood? It was just a little more blood on him. The only difference was that it was his own. It didn’t matter.

“…But if he reached your face with a sword… he must have been very good.” The other examiner said curiously.

_Just for cutting me? No, it wasn’t that. I hesitated and screwed up, again._

_“_ …No. His skill itself was nothing. But his will to live… was incredible. I will leave rest to you.” Kenshin murmured, and turned to leave.

It made no sense to stay here any longer.

However, he shot a final glance at the young Mimawarigumi guard who had cut him. He really would have preferred to let the boy go, but how could he fault him for deciding to fight for his beliefs? It had been mere chance that they had faced each other. Just chance. But still, it was sad.

“May you find happiness, in your next life.”

“Eh? Did you say something?”

“No. It was nothing.” Kenshin denied softly. No, tonight had been just another night of blood among many others. But now, he was filthy and the smell of blood was fogging his nostrils. He really needed a bath.

As he walked away, he heard the examiners speaking softly behind his back. “Will to live huh? I guess a first class swordsman can tell that just by crossing blades with someone…”

“Yeah, but… Maybe he could tell that, but he still killed them all without blinking. He really is a manslayer.”

Kenshin sighed tiredly.

_Yes, I am._

 

 


	6. Of cats and mice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: violence, murder, unhealthy coping mechanisms to stress

# Chapter 19. Of cats and mice

 

The wound on his cheek kept bleeding, and Kenshin didn’t know why. It was quite shallow, just a surface scratch really. The blade hadn’t even pierced through his cheek. But then again, weren’t head wounds supposed to bleed a lot?

In any case, the wound attracted a lot of attention back at the inn. Okami-san even demanded that he show it to the doctor. Kenshin protested; after all, it wasn’t that serious. It was just a little cut, not worth a fuss like this. However, when the old lady kept insisting, he finally gave in… after all, Okami-san had always been very kind to him.

The doctor, who looked after Choshuu Ishin Shishi residing in the inn, agreed with him. As long as it was allowed to heal in peace, the wound wouldn’t even need stitches. It had been a close call, though. Just a little bit to the side and Kenshin could have lost an eye… or just a hint deeper and the blade would have pierced through his cheek and the infection risk would have made the subsequent healing process far trickier.

Perhaps he had been lucky. But truly, it was so hard to care.

The jobs kept coming and coming, a never ending stream of black envelopes, and now Kenshin’s dreams featured a new addition: the desperately afraid but determined eyes of that young guardsman. The dreams got so bad that sometimes he would even remember them during the day.

…And the wound kept bleeding.

Kenshin tried not to let it get to him, but it was a losing battle.

One night after the job was done, Iizuka-san ran after him. It was raining heavily, the first of the heavy spring rains. They were walking back to the inn to report their success. For once, the job had been a bit further away from the city center, just across the river.   

“You are truly Hitokiri Battousai, boy. You killed all those men and didn’t get even a drop of blood on your clothes.”

Kenshin looked aside.

It was true. He had learned to avoid the blood spatter, hoping to avoid the smell of blood. Not that it helped much. It felt like these days, everything was tainted with blood, even the food he ate. It was making it much harder to put aside his job, to relax, to think of anything but what he had become.

The terrified eyes, the screams, and the blood kept haunting him.

“Let’s go drink sake together,” Iizuka-san suggested after a moment.

 _Sake…?_ Kenshin frowned, looking at the examiner out of the corner of his eye. _Why would he…? And why sake? It tastes horrible…._

Just before he had left the mountain, Master had offered him a taste of rice wine. It had been a little more than a year ago.

_Has it only been a year since then? It feels like a lifetime…_

“No, thank you.” Kenshin finally murmured.

“Suit yourself. I can easily drink alone. I’ll see you later.”

Kenshin watched the man go. He still didn’t much care for Iizuka-san, to be honest… but then again, Iizuka-san was one of a very few people who even took the time to talk to him anymore.  

People at the inn seemed to be starting to connect the rumors of Hitokiri Battousai with him. Not that anyone had dared to comment on it aloud, but the way they looked at and avoided him weren’t out of mere unease, but out of genuine fear. Well, no wonder – while the examiners of assassination weren’t supposed to talk about their job, it didn’t seem to stop them from guiding their friends away from the danger.

It left Kenshin feeling lonely like never before. He had taken to steadily lowering the wall between him and Kenta. It helped some. Kasumi’s top was always with him too, to remind him why he did this. This was all for the innocents, for the happiness of people like her.

But the eyes of that young man and the blood was seeping in everywhere, tainting everything around him… It was so hard to forget, to ignore. And his cheek kept bleeding.

No, there had to be a way to let go of this tension beneath his skin, the horrors lurking in his sleep.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Kenshin sighed. At a distance, he could hear the rowdiness of men getting ready to go out on the town for whores and drink. They wouldn’t be back until after midnight, stinking of sake and then falling asleep, snoring like pigs.

_What would I give to sleep like they do, even just for a night._

Kenshin scowled. _What is so good about sake, anyway?_

Iizuka-san had looked at him strangely, like he had _expected_ him to take the offer. And come to think of it, even Master had drunk heavily back when he had first taken him as an apprentice.

_Why?_

For all that Hiko Seijuurou had always loomed larger than life in his mind, now that he thought about it, back in those early days… Master had always carried his jug of sake everywhere he went. Almost every night, Master had drunk. And no matter how inexplicable Master’s logic had seemed at times, he had never done anything without a reason.

Kenshin frowned, looking out of his window. The gates opened and closed, a few men heading down the street towards the town.

Did it matter why?

All those men had to have a reason for going out and drinking, and he had nothing to do but lurk alone in his corner room. There was no hope of sleeping. And going to the yard to practice? Why should he bother? His targets already died too easily. No, there was nothing for him here.

So sake… would it hurt to try it?

Without pausing to think twice, Kenshin grabbed his sword and headed downstairs.

Thankfully, it wasn’t difficult to find a bar in the city. There was always life in the city center, no matter the hour. However, Kenshin wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of seeing anyone he knew, so he took his time finding a place that didn’t have any familiar ki presences inside.

Of course, it wasn’t the best way of picking drinking establishments – a fact that became obvious the second he stepped inside. The bar was the quieter sort, which was well and good, but the patrons were grey-haired, wrinkly old men with sour dispositions. However, it wasn’t like Kenshin could head back out right away.

Sighing softly, Kenshin sat down and quietly ordered his sake from the sleazy barman that came to inquire after his needs.

It turned out that sake still tasted terrible: bitter, almost tangy like blood. However, he had come all this way here, and at least the patrons of this place didn’t know him. No, compared to the fear and unease the Choshuu men displayed, it would be far better to be faced with honest dislike.

After the first bottle, Kenshin began to get used to the taste. However, the whispers around him were turning downright annoying.

Why did people have to keep commenting that he looked like a girl?

_I definitely do not._

_And red hair? Yes, thank you for noticing!_ Kenshin was well aware that he had red hair. He had always had red hair, it wasn’t like he had stolen clothes dye and purposefully dyed it that way.

And yes, he knew he looked a bit like a foreigner… but not that much, really. Kenshin had seen proper foreigners since coming to the city. They looked different in the face, they were a lot taller, and their eyes were different. He had seen one with red hair, too. It wasn’t the same red as his. It had been more of a light orange.

_No, my hair is a proper red. A much better color._

_And yes, I am short like a kid, thank you for reminding me of that_ _–_ _again_. Kenshin was slowly starting to suspect that he would never grow enough for that to change. It wasn’t like he had grown a bit since last year. But then again, he was fourteen. At the end of summer he would be fifteen.

_I will be an adult then._

_How wonderful would that be? No one could call me a little kid anymore!_

Maybe he still had some growth left? Young men grew in height through their late teens. Some were just later than others. It would be nice to grow over five feet, at least.  

_Why do I feel dizzy?_

Maybe he should quit already. Go back to the inn, back to being the inn’s favorite ghost story, being stared at and avoided and feared… back to the loneliness of his empty room and the soft futon he hadn’t managed to use even once, back to nights filled with blood and screams, shouts and scared eyes.

_No, it really is much better here._

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Kenshin woke up to a headache of epic portions and a rebellious stomach. His eyes felt like they had dried up inside his head, and then someone had scrubbed them with sand, and gods, how badly he stank! Had he fallen in the gutter on the way home?

Okami-san had scolded him like none other, afterwards. However, no matter how embarrassing that morning had been, it hadn’t kept him from realizing that for the first time in ages… he had slept without dreaming.

It had been a powerful realization, so from that point on, whenever he had a particularly bad night, Kenshin would go out and drink. After all, he had the time and money for it. He had been saving his monthly stipend religiously for months, never finding anything to spend it on. And a few hours of being able to forget the job, to let go… and then to sleep like a normal human being? It was worth every penny. However, the hangover was always difficult and kept him from drinking as often as he would like. Especially if there was a possibility of a job the next day.

But still, Kenshin now knew why people drank.

The spring was changing into summer, bringing with it rains and warm days. The town was filling with people, the marketplaces bursting with vendors and wayfarers and a never-ending stream of samurai packing into the city. Now, the majority of his jobs were happening right in the city. It made Kenshin’s work harder and far more time consuming.

The Ishin Shishi had succeeded in becoming a threat to the Bakufu. However, it had also sent the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi hunting them like bloodhounds. Not only did all his targets now have bodyguards, but wherever Kenshin finally got the deed done… the next day that block would be added to the policing forces’ ever changing patrol list.

It was like playing a game of cat and mouse.

Because of it, Kenshin could no longer  simply hide and wait for his targets. No, the ease of that was long gone. Now he would have to follow his targets for hours around the city just to find a safe location, where absolutely no one would see the assassination. He couldn’t fail, not any more than he had already failed.   

Another thing that was new, was that for some reason Iizuka-san had been trying to be friendlier towards him. It was a bit strange. Yet, no matter Kenshin’s obvious hesitation, the examiner would go out his way to invite him out for sake, or to Shimabara.

Now, it wasn’t exactly a secret that Kenshin had taken to drinking. Practically everyone in the inn knew it.

However, Kenshin wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to spend more time than was necessary in Iizuka-san’s company… and Shimabara? The mere thought of going to the red light district mortified Kenshin. He wasn’t a kid anymore, true, but to go out and seek the company of whores?

But given that sake had been a somewhat pleasant discovery, even despite its terrible taste…      

But still, no.

_No, no, no. Definitely no. I would just embarrass myself._

What was he even supposed to do with a whore? The very thought made him blush. He had been noticing girls in the town, yes… but, but, actually talking to them? It would be a thousand times harder than talking to mere strangers!

So no. Absolutely not.

Besides, it wasn’t like he even had time for that sort of thing, with the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi making his job harder, and there being so many targets…

While killing them was easy, all too easy… someone always had time to scream. He had tried to be faster because of it. He didn’t want any more screams filling his nightmares.

The blood was already bad enough.

He had taken to washing his hands for hours after each job, trying to clean them. But no matter how he scrubbed and scrubbed, the blood never left completely.  

And still, his cheek kept bleeding.

It was disturbing.

One night, Iizuka-san even commented on it. They were walking by the river, which was one of the better places for assassinations these days. Even if the Shinsengumi or Mimawarigumi saw them, they had an easy escape route.

“You are good, but lately you have been absolutely incredible.”

“What do you mean?” Kenshin asked softly, glancing at the man out of the corner of his eye.

“You don’t even give them a chance to scream anymore…” Iizuka-san murmured, rubbing the beard stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Kenshin blinked, and raising his hand, felt wetness on his cheek.

_Again?_

_It has been almost two months since then! Why? Why does this keeps happening? It’s insane!_

Iizuka-san looked at him strangely. “There’s a superstition that goes like this: if a sword wound is made by someone with a strong hatred, the wound will not heal until revenge has been extracted.”

“Won’t heal…?” Kenshin couldn’t help staring at him in shock. “Strong hatred?”

That sounded scarily possible. After all, he knew ki and spirits… so how could he say that old superstitions weren’t true? Kenshin’s heart skipped a beat, shivers racing down his spine.

_If that’s true, then…_

Iizuka-san smiled grimly. “Exactly. It may never go away.”

 

* * *

 

_< …the rumors of Hitokiri Battousai still work to our advantage. However, the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi are becoming more active, which is affecting our work negatively._

_As per your request, I will update you with information regarding Himura. I have made attempts to befriend him, but it seems that he is slowly falling deeper into insanity. He remains efficient in his work: he is fast, accurate, and certain. However, all his watchers report that Himura is cold and detached, almost completely emotionless. This state of mind stays with him longer and longer after the assassinations. The men residing in the inn report that his nightmares have become worse. Additionally, the wound inflicted by Shiregura Yubei’s bodyguard, Kiyosato Akira, has yet to heal._

_It’s very likely that soon he will fall over the line and lose his sense of purpose. If this were to happen, Himura’s sword skills will make bringing him down a very difficult task. My recommendation would be to transfer him to other duties as soon as possible. If he cannot be replaced, then we should keep pushing him to connect with people and our shared purpose, though I fear it's already too late. >_

Katsura frowned deeply, folding the letter meticulously.

He had been requesting frequent updates about his assassin from Iizuka, but lately the news were becoming worse and worse. The boy had been exactly what they needed in Kyoto, fulfilling the harshest of tasks admirably for nearly a year. However, now it seemed their luck was running out.

No matter how precarious things still were in Edo and in the provinces, maybe it was time for him to return to the Capital. If Himura was getting as bad as reported, if he truly needed to be brought down like a mad dog…

No, not yet – it couldn’t be too late already.

Iizuka’s suggestion of transferring the boy to another task could work… if they had anyone else capable of doing his work. Unfortunately, there was no other swordsman among the Choshuu ranks who could pick up the slack. No, for now, the best they could do was to keep monitoring the situation.

Katsura tapped his knee thoughtfully. What had Iizuka suggested, again? To push Himura to connect with people?

The boy didn’t talk to people. According to the reports, he had taken to completely isolating himself. And even back in Hagi, the boy had been so very hesitant to talk. But if encouraging him to form bonds with his comrades wouldn’t work, then what could? It wasn’t good for the boy to keep bottling up all his emotions, that was certain.

However, why was Iizuka doubting the boy’s resolve to fight for the Ishin Shishi?

Katsura had never met anyone as confident in their shared purpose as Himura. If the boy was losing that… no, he needed to talk with the boy and see for himself.

“Katagai, arrange things for a trip to Kyoto. There is a matter that I need to see to.”

 

* * *

 

It was almost a month later, the start of summer, when Katsura finally reached the Capital. It hadn’t been an easy journey. The Bakufu forces kept a close watch on everyone suspected of having ties to the Ishin Shishi. Thankfully, so far they hadn’t been able to confirm that he was anything other than a mere messenger between groups. However, several other power players had already been caught and executed, and Katsura had no doubt that the same fate would befall him if his true role as the leader of the Choshuu rebels became known.     

This was quite possibly the worst time to arrange a meeting with his assassin. If Bakufu spies caught a whiff of them and recognized his or Himura’s true importance… it could lead to very bad times for Choshuu.

The game of cat and mouse was getting dangerous now, and secrecy was their best protection.

The fame of Hitokiri Battousai and the rumors it had spurred were a double-edged blade, truly. While it made Himura’s assassinations more effective, inspiring fear among the Bakufu that they were able to use to their gain… it made Himura’s identity a valuable commodity. If Bakufu forces found out his name or even just a partial description, they would turn the city over to find the boy. The boy’s unique appearance certainly didn’t help matters.

But on the other hand, if the boy was truly falling into madness… it would be a far worse disaster. No, it was absolutely essential that he met with the boy now and saw for himself where things stood.

For this reason, Katsura had arranged for himself and Katagai to stay in another Choshuu colleague’s town estate. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it suited his cover story of taking part in meetings about clan matters.

Now, after enduring nearly a month on the road, it was truly a pleasure to gather his thoughts in the estate’s beautiful garden. The koi were peaceful to observe. It almost let him forget his worries for a moment.

Then, Katagai coughed softly. “They are here.”

Katsura nodded at his bodyguard and turned. Himura was following Iizuka on the stone path through the garden. The boy had grown a bit taller, maybe half a hand? However, the largest change was in his expression. Gone was the innocent childlike wonder, the wide eyes and naive hopefulness.

The boy’s gaze was sharp, his eyes alert, not allowing a hint of his thoughts to show. No, this was not a child before him. And that scar on his cheek, it somehow added to the effect. It was like he was looking at a dangerous, if somewhat short and delicately built man.

And to think, just a year ago people had constantly doubted the boy’s skills with his sword – well, not anymore. Katsura paused, his heart sinking.

_This is what I have done._

No. Now was not the time for doubts. He needed to see if the boy was truly as far gone as Iizuka claimed, or if he’d come to a premature conclusion.

“It’s been a while since we have been able to meet.” Katsura started gently, keeping his voice light and welcoming. “Oh, someone was actually able to hurt you?”

The boy didn’t even blink, merely murmuring in a bland tone, “It was due to my carelessness.”

Katsura nodded and paused to consider. It wasn’t that he doubted the claim. A year ago, Takasugi had said the boy was easily able to beat him in a duel. Considering the Kiheitai commander was one the best swordsman he had ever known, it wasn’t likely that a rookie member in the posh Kyoto Mimawarigumi could have outmatched his assassin.  

However, there was something worrying in that bland tone… and hadn’t Iizuka said something about doubting the boy’s resolve to keep fighting for the Ishin Shishi’s goals? Katsura glanced subtly at Iizuka.

“Is something wrong?” the boy inquired softly.

 _Yes, I need to see if he still thinks as he used to,_ Katsura decided and smiled. “No, quite the contrary. I am attending a meeting tonight with Toshimaru and Miyabe. Important matters of clan policy will be discussed.”

“You want me as your bodyguard?”

“No. I would like to join us as my adjunct.” Katsura said evenly, looking at the boy seriously.

A year ago, the boy had only joined to fight for the good of the people, to selflessly help as many as he could. For him, rebelling against the Bakufu was not about gaining personal recognition, jockeying for a better position, nor had it anything to do with settling old grudges… no, it was all about the sincere wish to build a better world. Katsura had been impressed with the boy, then. No, not the boy – Kenshin.

Kenshin had shared his dream for the future and more importantly, he had been willing to put his skills and his heart on the line for that goal.  

For a moment, even the silence became stifling as they waited for an answer. Then Iizuka couldn’t handle it any longer, and prompted Kenshin, “Oh, good for you. What an honor!”

It was like those words broke the wall of emotionless coldness Kenshin had drawn up around himself, and just for a second his pale eyes flashed with _horror_ at the notion.

And Katsura couldn’t help but feel relieved.

He wasn’t surprised when a moment later, Kenshin said softly, “I must decline.”

“Hey! Your name could go down in history…” Iizuka still tried to derail him.

It was useless, Katsura now knew. Iizuka was wrong about their assassin. Kenshin’s resolve hadn’t weakened nor had his heart changed.

“It’s easiest if Hitokiri keeps to the shadows as much as possible. I am not interested in history or honor. If we achieve a new age in which all can live in peace, that’s enough. If there is nothing else, I will excuse myself.” Kenshin murmured and left. Just like that, without a second thought or waiting for permission.

“Hey, come back here!” Katagai yelled, beyond offended at the breach in etiquette. “What an attitude! How dare he repay your kindness with that kind of response!”

Katsura couldn’t help but scoff fondly. _Who cares about a little breach in manners?_

_No, that doesn’t matter at all._

Iizuka seemed to think different, musing out loud. “It’s no good. Maybe he has killed too many, but lately he has been acting strange. I thought he would show some interest if we dangled bait right in front of his eyes.”

“Bait?” Katagai frowned. “Wait – Katsura-sensei came all this way…”

“Call it whatever you want.” Iizuka muttered, looking aside, deep in thought.

However, despite being wrong about Kenshin’s resolve to fight for the cause, Iizuka had a point about his behavior. Back in Hagi, Kenshin had been so hesitant and polite, almost shy… this cool, almost brusque determination stuck out to Katsura’s eye like a sore thumb.

“Iizuka’s right. But I saw one thing here…” Katsura exhaled softly. “He may act strange, but his heart hasn’t changed since I first met him. Maybe it’s because he seemed so much younger then, that he is changed now, but his heart hasn’t changed at all.”

“That’s good to hear.” Katagai noted.

 _But is it, truly?_ Katsura frowned, not quite as sure. Because even if Kenshin’s heart hadn’t changed, something very clearly had. Thinking back on the brief meeting, he mused out loud, “It’s because he hasn’t changed that he is beginning to feel that terrible deterioration of being a hitokiri.”

After all, no one could stay pure at heart and still kill like that.

No, one part of Kenshin would stay unchanged… but another would be a ruthless murderer.

 

* * *

 

Lately, Kenshin had been leaning on Kenta more and more. No, if he was entirely honest with himself, he had needed it to slip to his side of the wall more often and for longer periods.

It was easy. After all, the wall between them was getting quite low.

Part of him was terrified by it. He still needed Kenta, oh god, how much he needed it!

But at the same time, it wasn’t Kenta’s company, friendship, and comfort he wanted anymore… No, the horrible truth was that when it was on his side, Kenshin felt so wonderfully numb. He was faster and stronger with ki, and using the internal enhancement trick was so _easy._ And when its coldness spread over him, it was easier not to care who their targets were, to stay calm and concentrate on the task at hand.

Alone, he would hesitate, overthink matters… simply put, he would care _too much_.

But with Kenta on his side, he could just stop thinking and kill.

Kenshin hadn’t even realized when he had started doing it. The jobs and months had just melded together into one neverending night. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted the spirit to be on its side of the wall anymore. Maybe it was exactly like Kenta kept saying, that they were better together.

They didn’t even talk much anymore.

 _Maybe I should just rip away the last pieces of the wall and be done with it._ Kenshin mused, staring at the bottom of his sake cup. _After all, why wouldn’t I?_

Sure, Kenta had been with him forever. He had always thought of the spirit as his dearest friend, the only one who was always on his side, something that no one could ever take away from him. But if he and the spirit were together, then they couldn’t be separated again… and they were good together.

Together…

They could do every Hiten Mitsurugi technique. Even the damn _Doryuusen_ that had caused so much embarrassment for him. After all, it was just a matter of concentration and _power_.

Together, they had plenty of both.

And when they were together, killing didn’t hurt so much.

 _Maybe I need to stop drinking for the night._ Kenshin sighed moodily, all too aware how depressed he was feeling. Scowling, he tried to pour the last dregs of his sake bottle into his cup. Even as sloshed as he was, the heaviness of alcohol muting everything around him… still his sake tasted of blood.

Back in the mountain, Master had said that if one didn’t like the taste of sake, it meant there was something wrong with the person.

Now, Kenshin could believe it.

Then, all of the sudden, Kenta nudged him.

_What?_

There were a pair of samurai walking towards him. No, not toward him, but to the table behind his? Kenshin blinked, turning to look.

_Oh…_

“Hey, woman!” the samurai grinned, “Have a drink with us!”

_What’s a young woman like her doing here, drinking alone?_

“We are Aizu Ishin Shishi, we risk our lives day and night for common people like you! Drinking with us is the least you could do to thank us!” The other samurai announced, puffing his chest like he had something to be proud of.

 _What an idiot!_ Kenshin scowled. _And to bother a woman like that? That’s disgusting. A girl like her has no chance of defending herself!_

If there was one thing he had always hated, it was people abusing their power. So without pausing to think twice, Kenshin remarked, “Aizu is on the Bakufu’s side, idiots.”

The brutes turned around, slow like ogres. The taller samurai demanded loudly, gripping his sword, “What was that?”

 _What a pair of morons._ Kenshin scoffed.

Instead of following his voice, they tried to assert their power over the crowd. The rest of the people in the bar were quiet, staring at the commotion warily – but none of them stepped in to interfere.

“That’s what I thought. Stay out of this.” The taller samurai said, letting his hand fall off his sword.

His comrade grinned smugly. “That was a close one for somebody.”

Really, samurai like these were disgusting examples of the filth flooding the town. Kenshin frowned in thought, glancing at the girl. If he left it at this, they would go on bothering her, and no one here seemed willing to stand against those two blundering fools.

Why? Were they truly so frightening to the ordinary townsfolk? Even with swords at their waist, these countryside samurai weren’t worth much.

Yet, the fact stood. If not for him, that girl would be in trouble.  

Well, it wasn’t like he wanted to order another bottle of sake… and those two idiots needed to be taken down a peg or two. Kenta was all but squirming on its side of the wall, eager to get to it.

Kenshin smiled grimly, allowing it to slip through and said softly, “It certainly was a close call. If you had drawn your sword, you would have been fighting me.”

“What!”

And it was only then that those brutes noticed him. The bigger and louder of the pair reached for his sword, obviously going for a rather pathetic version of quick draw—

Directing his ki to his hand, Kenshin stopped the draw with his palm before more than a handspan of the sword left its scabbard.

It should have been an impossible move for a man his size to perform. No, it was a move most fighters wouldn’t even dream of attempting, period. But for Himura Battousai, with Kenta’s enthusiastic help… it was as simple as breathing.

Kenshin remarked softly to the stunned samurai, “Let me give you some advice. The violence is only going to get worse. Kyoto is no place for hypocrites. If you value your lives, you should run back to the countryside.“

The tall samurai whose sword he was holding stared at him, his eyes wide as saucers. Mutely, he tried to budge his sword, only to see it wasn’t working. Kenshin stared at him calmly, pressing his hand forward, pushing the man’s sword back into its scabbard.

Behind them, the patrons of the bar seemed to realize the blundering idiots were no threat after all.

“Go home you frauds!” someone even dared to shout. The rest of the crowd agreed, voicing their displeasure, and seeing how unfavorable the situation had become, the brutes ran out of the bar with their tails between their legs.

It was an amusing thing for Kenshin to witness.

After all, people often fell silent and tried not to be noticed when they were afraid, as if being quiet would stop violence from reaching them. Yet, when someone strong stepped up, even the weak would gather their courage and stand up for what was right. It was why the Ishin Shishi and even he fought, when all was said and done.

Nodding his apology to the owner, Kenshin also took his leave.

Still, he couldn’t help but moodily reflect back on the chain of events. Before, guys like that wouldn’t ever have gotten under his skin… and he wouldn’t have dared to step in with a stunt like that, not without a clear objective. But these days, it was getting easier and easier to get into fights.

Perhaps it had something to do with how much Kenta liked fighting? Or was he just beginning to let its eagerness get to him?

It was raining outside again. The weather had been miserable the whole day, but at least it was consistent. He had taken an umbrella from the inn just for this reason, actually.

Now it was almost peaceful, the rain having driven most people inside. Kenshin was in no hurry. He had drunk enough sake to be a bit dizzy. Maybe he shouldn’t have drunk so much, but then again it had eased the worst of his restlessness and allowed him to forget the eyes, the screams, the blood… even if just for a little while.

He was deep in thought, deep enough that he didn’t pay attention to the ki presence flaring just ahead of him. Only Kenta’s warning shove against the wall allowed him to dodge the blade thrown at him.

The blade sliced through his umbrella, cutting the wax paper with ease.

_Dammit!_

And instantly, Kenshin focused, letting the spirit flow to his side of the wall. The world slowed down, and finally he saw a man ahead of him, armed and dressed in all black, a mask covering his face. His weapon was strange, two swords connected by a long chain… allowing him to throw them and pull them back at will.

There was no doubt about it, this man was a professional killer.  

_…Just like I am._

_No, focus!_

_He is here to kill, but why me? Who knows enough to send anyone like him after me?_

_The Bakufu?_

Kenshin gripped the handle of his sword and settled into a stance, waiting. His balance felt off, the dizziness of booze clouding everything just a shade...

The assassin growled with impatience and threw his sword again.

Kenshin deflected it, but instead of pulling it back like he expected, the assassin let it hit the ground.

_What? But why would he…_

And then the chain rose, snapping tight around him. The assassin had jumped to the wall and was pulling it tight with all his strength. The chain pinned his arms against his body with bruising force, leaving him helpless. Kenshin gasped – but already the Assassin was jumping down, his sword poised to strike right at his chest.

_Oh fuck._

But Kenta’s coldness was all his, he couldn’t lose. Not even against dishonorable tactics like these. Kenshin glanced down at his feet, and managed to grab the handle of the assassin’s blade from the ground and channeled his ki to his legs and—

“Aaaaaaaah!”

The blade he had taken cut through the assassin’s shoulder… and cut and cut and cut until the man dropped down in two halves.

Then, another ki flared behind him.

It was cold, collected, unusually defined… and so cool and suppressed that it was almost _familiar_.

_I know this presence, don’t I?_

Kenshin turned to look, almost expecting to see something…

_…White._

A soft gasp cut through the silence like thunder. Kenshin blinked dazedly. It was the girl from the bar.

She was standing in the middle of the guts and miscellaneous gunk from the corpse that was splattered all over the ground, the blood spreading further in the rain. It was everywhere, staining the girl’s umbrella, her white kimono…

Then the realization struck him.

Here he was, in the middle of the street with a sword in his hand and a bifurcated body at his feet, and worse, she was looking right at him. There was no doubt that she’d seen too much.  

_…I can’t let anyone see me kill. Katsura-san was always clear about that._

There was no question about it. If he let this girl go, she would know he was a killer. And the corpse at their feet had been killed in a manner only Hitokiri Battousai could do... If she said anything about it to anyone, soon the Bakufu would know what their most hunted hitokiri looked like.

_I can’t risk it._

Kenshin tightened his hold on the sword.

_I have to kill her._

“I followed you because I wanted to say thank you,” a melodic and calm voice remarked slowly.  

Thrown utterly off-balance by her voice, yet again, Kenshin glanced up only to see her walking closer. Ten paces, then five, then three… then she was standing just in front of him and Kenshin couldn’t do anything but stare.

 _She’s so tall… and why isn’t she screaming? Why isn’t she running away?_  

Her ki felt so familiar, cold and collected in a manner that just screamed home and safety. And even the night’s darkness couldn’t hide her beauty. She had the look of a real lady, a woman every man would speak wistfully about.

Even drenched in blood, she wasn’t screaming.

Instead, she mused out loud, “They always say at tragic scenes, ‘‘a rain of blood falls,’ but you really made it... rain blood.”

 _A poem…?_ Kenshin gaped in disbelief.

The girl was as pale as a ghost among the blood and rain, dressed in that white kimono, a purple shawl loose around her shoulders. Her eyes were large, dark like the night sky, and he felt like he could easily forget himself in them…

Her eyes closed, and she began to fall.

It was instinct, nothing more, that made Kenshin drop the assassin’s sword and catch her before she hit the ground.

_She fainted?_

_Errr, well, it’s a natural reaction to seeing all this blood. After all, don’t girls always faint when they see blood?_

Kenshin blinked awkwardly, staring at the girl in his arms.  

_Ugh, what should I do with her?_

He couldn’t exactly leave her here. It was very late at night, who knew what would happen to a girl left alone? And what about the mess she had seen? She was a witness to things the Bakufu would kill to find out!

And what should he do with the corpse? This street was right in the middle of town. The policing forces would raise hell about a murder scene like this! But it wasn’t like he could clean this up alone, either…

Sure, he had seen the examiners cleaning up his assassinations when they simply needed people to disappear… but it was always hard work and took time, something he definitely didn’t have right now.

Besides, he had an unconscious girl in his arms. A damn heavy girl at that. Kenshin grunted, adjusting his hold on the girl – drawing her arm over his shoulder and scooping up her legs.

_Dammit!_

_It isn’t like I have a choice here!_

The living were more important than the dead, and what did one dead body matter in the bloodbath that was Kyoto these days?

Unfortunately he knew only one place where he could actually take the girl…

 _Well, Okami-san likes me. Hopefully enough to help me with this…_ _or maybe I could try to smuggle her inside without anyone seeing me?_ Kenshin frowned in thought, adjusting his hold on the girl yet again, trying to get her head to lean against his shoulder.    

_…She has a really nice perfume. A scent of white plums._

_No, focus!_

One problem at a time. Kenshin gasped for breath, changing his hold yet again. Already his arms were straining against her weight. Well, no wonder – no matter how beautiful, she was both taller and heavier than him. How the hell could he carry her all the way to the inn?

It took some doing, some cheating with Kenta’s help and a lot of changes in carrying position, before he finally managed to drag her back to the inn. However, at the end of the exercise Kenshin was sweating like a pig and his arms and legs shook like grass in the wind from the effort.

How had the girl managed to stay unconscious through all of it? Weren’t fainting spells supposed to be brief?

In any case, it was very late, almost near dawn. Getting her to the second floor of the inn unnoticed wouldn’t be simple. He couldn’t go up the stairs. After all, huffing for breath like this, struggling to carry her… he would surely wake up everyone and what would people say if they saw her?

Nothing good, for him or for her.

No, he had to be sneaky about this. What if he concentrated enough ki and jumped just right, could he get enough altitude to reach the first floor’s awning? From there it would be easy to get to his window…

However, before he had a chance to try it, Okami-san’s ki presence came down the stairs.

_Uh oh, she is still up? Errr, time for the Plan B._

Kenshin slipped inside the back door and drew a tentative smile to his lips.

“...I’m back.” He called out loud, keeping his voice soft so as not to startle the kindly old lady. She would give him hell is he scared her, and besides, he would need her help for this.

“Oh, Himura-kun. You are home late tonight.” Okami-san greeted him calmly, before her eyes fell to the girl in his arms. Both of her brows shot up in surprise. “Himura-kun, what are you doing?”

“Errr…” Kenshin cringed, all too aware how bad it looked. He lowered the girl to the floor, and straightened, trying desperately to come up with an explanation. “Um… ah, there was a fight, and she fainted and…”

The old innkeeper frowned, but walked closer to take a good look at the girl.

Kenshin all but sighed in relief; finally things were looking up! At the very least, Okami-san would know what was wrong with the girl. Hopefully. If not, then she would have some idea what to do now. She always did… and he really didn’t.

Looking aside, Kenshin rubbed his aching arms. It felt like every bit of him was hurting.

Finally Okami-san glanced at him and asked, “Are you sure you didn’t just get her drunk?”

_What? What for?_

Kenshin gaped, before realization struck. “No!!!”

“This is not a teahouse, but just this once…” The old lady snorted indelicately, before shaking her head. “I will get her some warm water and a change of clothes.”

It was like all his blood was concentrated in his face, he was so mortified! However, despite the admonishment, he had gotten what he had wanted… kind of.  

Kenshin sighed and heaved the girl up once more.  

 

* * *

 

It had been a struggle and half to get the girl to his room quietly, but when it was done, he had left Okami-san in charge of the girl and headed out to the backyard for a quick bath. After all, he too had been drenched in blood and sweat. A disgusting combination, truly.  

When he got back, Okami-san had gotten the girl changed into fresh clothes and set her to sleep on his futon. But, but… why _his bed_?

Why couldn’t she had gotten her own bed?

Not that he had ever used the thing, but it was the principle of it! Kenshin had hissed his protests at Okami-san, hoping against hope that the old lady would come to her senses and arrange another room for the girl.  

However, Okami-san had told him that this was an inn, not a charity… and there was absolutely no room for her anywhere else. And because _he_ had dragged the poor girl home, it was his duty as a gentleman to share his room.

Kenshin was left staring after her, completely at a loss for words.

How was he supposed to get any sleep with someone _in_ his room? He barely managed to sleep as it was! With so many people always around him, all their unwitting noises… he could never relax enough. Not even here, in the inn with people he had been boarding with for the better part of a year.

And now, all of the sudden, he was expected to share his room with a complete stranger?

But still, if it was just for tonight… maybe, just for one night he could stand it.

After all, he was so tired. The night had truly been a long one, with him dragging the girl’s dead weight around the town… Kenshin settled against his stack of books, and clutching his katana against his shoulder like he was used to, he turned to look at the sleeping girl.

She was really pretty. Her pale skin looked really soft and her long, silky black hair fell around her pretty face.

_…Yes, really beautiful._

Kenshin sighed and looked away morosely. He had been noticing girls for a while now, but they had always seemed so unapproachable. Besides, it wasn’t like any of them would notice him in turn. At least, not in any way that could be called favorable. He was ugly and weird, he had always known it, and on top of that, he was a killer now.

It wasn’t like anyone could ever like a killer.

Maybe Hiten Mitsurugi and killing had been the reason why Master and Osumi-san hadn’t gotten married back then? He had been just a child, but even he had noticed how much they had liked each other.

_…But if that’s true, then there’s no chance of any girl ever liking me, is there?_

Letting his head fall against the stack of books, Kenshin closed his eyes. After all, all these men who had even a suspicion about who he was… These good, strong Choshuu samurai were all deadly afraid of him and couldn’t understand that it was for the cause, for the people, for the new era.

If they couldn’t understand it, how could he hope for a mere girl to be any different?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaread by Animaniacal-laughter in 26.2.2016


	7. She

# Chapter 20. She

 

The next morning Kenshin woke up to a terrible headache. It was the kind of annoying throbbing that could only come from a hangover. Thankfully though, his stomach felt fairly steady for once. He sighed in private relief, tiredly rubbing his face.

It was already late morning.

The sun was high in the sky, the birds were singing… but his futon was folded up in the corner in an entirely different manner than it had been.

_What? How? Who would have..?_

His eyes widened in panic as his memories aligned.

_The girl!_

_Where is she? Could she have already left? What if she’d told someone about last night?_ It wouldn’t matter who, the Bakufu had spies everywhere. Oh god, what if she had told? It wasn’t only Battousai’s identity that would be in danger, but everyone at the inn. This was the Choshuu Ishin Shishi safehouse!

_Oh god, oh god…._

Kenshin closed his eyes and tried to keep breathing, tried to focus past the terror. There had to be some other explanation. Something, anything that would have caused the girl to just flat out leave after waking up in a strange place…

In the distance, ki presences moved, the tiny flickers he had come to know like the back of his hand. There was Okami-san, there were her serving girls preparing food, the men gathered in the common room for lunch… and among them, a cold, collected, almost suppressed presence that felt like _home_.

_…It’s her?_

Kenshin blinked in disbelief, thoroughly unsettled by the sense of familiarity. True, most ki presences resembled each other at least in some way, but to think that a mere girl’s spirit could remind him of…

_No, focus!_

_She is still here, downstairs. But she is moving towards me?_

_What?_

Feeling utterly unbalanced, Kenshin staggered to his feet and slipped his sword through his sash. He barely managed to make it down the stairs when he saw her, carrying lunch trays.

“Um…” Kenshin started awkwardly. “Are you feeling better?”

She waited politely for him to finish speaking, before nodding slightly and saying, “I’m sorry. I was drunk last night.”

An awkward silence fell between them.

Then, before he could think of anything to say, she tilted her head and asked calmly, “My name? Tomoe. Yukishiro Tomoe.”

_Oh, okay…_ Nice as it was to finally have her name, it didn’t serve to clarify the situation at all. Kenshin cleared his throat and asked, “Err, Tomoe… what are you doing?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you tell?”

“Helping out?”

“So you did know.”

Her voice was nonplussed and she was looking at him like _he_ was the weird and unreasonable one here. Kenshin bit his lip, trying not to say anything rude. However, he needed some answers and he needed them right now. “I need to talk to you.”

That should do it, shouldn’t it? Surely she would stop the weird game she was playing and come with him so that he could try to solve this mess in private…

She looked him in the eye, calm as she pleased, and said, “I’m busy. Ask me later.”

_What the… what?_

Kenshin gaped as she walked away, utterly and thoroughly baffled.

She… she had seen him kill people. She had been showered in blood and passed out, then woken up in a strange place and now she, she, she… was saying she was _busy_ carrying trays?

_Just what?!_

But then again, wasn’t it a good thing that she wasn’t panicking or trying to run away? At least now he had time to figure out some solution to this headache – preferably after the worst of his hangover had passed. Kenshin covered his face with his hands and groaned.

_Oh gods, what a mess!_

Still, there was one person who would know why Tomoe was acting like a maid. Kenshin nodded determinedly, squared his shoulders, and headed to the kitchens.

Usually men weren’t allowed in the employee side of the building, but Kenshin’s job had him coming and going at odd hours and sleeping whenever he got the chance. Thus, Okami-san had invited him to come to the kitchens whenever he felt hungry, instead of waiting for mealtimes.

Like he had thought, Okami-san was helping two serving girls clean the dishes. Trying to keep his voice soft and not too accusing, Kenshin asked, “The girl from last night… why is she helping out?”

The old innkeeper didn’t turn to look at him. Instead, she continued to dry the dishes. “She didn’t have a place to go, so I offered her work.”

_Oh, but that means…_

“Are you going to hire her?”  

“Do you have to ask?” Okami-san glanced at him, raising her brow. “You are the one who begged me to make a place for her.”

_Yes, but, but..._ Kenshin gaped, “That was last night! It was an emergency.”

This wasn’t what he had wanted! This was not a good place for that girl – errr, for Tomoe to stay! All the residents were Choshuu Samurai and Katsura-san visited the inn every now and then and, and, and… it just wasn’t safe! They didn’t know anything about her!

And where was she going to stay? Hadn’t Okami-san told him last night that there was no room for… _No, no, no. Nope. That can’t be._

Okami-san scoffed at him. “I appreciate that you Choshuu men are such good customers to my inn, but you keep us busy and we are extremely shorthanded. Do you know how much you all eat? I have been watching her and she is a very good worker so far. Everyone has things in their past they want to hide. There is no reason for me to put her out.”

_Oh, well, that makes sense. In a way…_ Kenshin paused awkwardly. He was starting to feel he was making a fool of himself. Okami-san was looking at him with amusement, just waiting for another stream of protest that she could shoot down. The serving girls didn’t even bother to hide their staring, either.

Kenshin sighed. _I just can’t win, can I?_

His stomach rumbled quietly, alerting him to the fact that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening. The serving girls tittered at the sound, and he looked aside, heat rising on his cheeks.

_Fine, I can think about this Tomoe dilemma more – after some food._

And given the state of the kitchen, most of the men had to have already eaten. They never stayed too long after lunch, preferring to head out to the town.

_Maybe I can eat in peace for once…_

However, the second he stepped into the dining room he realized how silly that hope was. The room was crowded, all the men lingering there to gawk at the pretty girl serving them tea – Tomoe.

Kenshin felt like screaming in sheer frustration at the sight. However, he couldn’t exactly turn back now, not without setting off even more of the men’s unsolicited rumor mongering… so he got his tray and sat down at his place. Like always, the men made room for him like he was a leper.

The food was unappetizing; the miso and rice, the steamed vegetables and grilled fish all tasted like blood. However, for once _he_ wasn’t the object of the men’s curiosity. No, no one seemed to pay him any attention at all, not when there was Tomoe to stare at.   

Not that he could blame them, exactly. She was strange – beautiful and elegant, serving tea with perfect manners, holding herself with the poise of a girl born to a good name. She was polite, answering the men’s eager questions whenever it seemed fitting, but not once did she smile.

Kenshin frowned, staring at her just out of the corner of his eye. _A girl like her, how could she have no place to go?_

_Why is she still here?_

The men didn’t seem to mind her presence at all. They kept admiring her, some of them even going so far as to voice their thoughts. But Tomoe, instead of getting offended at the brusque comments like most women would have… didn’t say a thing. No, she looked them in the eye and asked if they wanted more tea, like nothing could phase her.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t screamed or panicked last night, either. Not even when she had been splattered with blood and witnessed him murder a man. Who was this girl – this Tomoe?

“Hey.”

_Huh…?_ Kenshin blinked, turning to see who had sat down next to him. It was Iizuka-san. Well, it really couldn’t have been anyone else, but why was his closest superior here? Iizuka-san usually didn’t spend all that much time at the inn…

But if there was anyone who would know what to do about Tomoe, it would be Iizuka-san. The older man was higher up the ladder, and was responsible for managing his jobs. Surely, he had some idea what to do about a girl who had seen too much?

However, this wasn’t the place to discuss sensitive matters. And yesterday’s fiasco was a sensitive matter like no other. Someone had ordered a professional assassination attempt on him and that meant that Hitokiri Battousai’s identity might already be out.

Kenshin’s heart sank, and he gripped his chopsticks tighter. No, this was something he needed to discuss with Katsura-san directly.

“Can you set up a meeting with Katsura-san? I need to discuss last night with him.”

“It’s already done. He will be here this afternoon.” Iizuka-san agreed, before glancing at Tomoe. “I hear you brought her home with you last night. Where did you find a desirable woman like that? I bet she has some stories to tell…”

_Desirable? Stories to tell..?_

Kenshin inhaled sharply. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted anyone to find out about her!

Iizuka-san smiled slyly, his eyes harboring a knowing look and he boldly nabbed a cherry from Kenshin’s tray, as only a close friend would have dared. The assumption made Kenshin’s stomach lurch.

He hadn’t managed to eat even half of his breakfast, but already it was becoming unbearable, staying here with all these people.

It didn’t help that Iizuka’s humor rubbed him the wrong way. Which, of course, was the point – or so he had gathered. The examiner enjoyed needling him, trying to get a rise out of him, and the topic that seemed get under his skin the most was…. well, girls. Likely that was the reason Iizuka-san kept inviting him to visit brothels with him and the other men, too. However, even if he was missing out on a good thing, Kenshin just didn’t want to go. The very thought of touching a stranger like that…

“So... how did she taste?”

_Gods, how can they think I could..._ Iizuka-san was bad enough, but hadn’t Okami-san also assumed so? And if those two could think such a dirty thing, didn’t that mean everyone else could do so too?

Kenshin glanced about the room, and all around him, people were _snickering_.

“The landlady told me.” Iizuka-san leered, his gaze locked on Tomoe. “You had her in your room last night, didn’t you… Himura?”

_That’s it. I can’t stay here and listen to this._ Kenshin scowled, grabbing his sword and hitting the floor with the end of his scabbard as he rose. The strong thud echoed through the hall, cutting of the chatter as everyone turned to stare at them.

_Oops…_ Kenshin cringed. He hadn’t meant to cause a scene, he just hadn’t wanted to hear one more word of Iizuka’s bad jokes.... not right now. Preferably, not ever.

Feeling guilty, he turned to leave.

“Hey, don’t scare me like that! You made me swallow the plum pit.” Iizuka-san yelled after him.

It only made Kenshin feel worse.

Kenta, though, was nudging at him happily. It loved outrageous displays like that, loved watching people’s faces as fear overtook their knowing looks.   

To be perfectly honest, lately Kenshin’s temper had been developing a bit of a dark streak. It was like, things were getting under his skin more easily, even when he knew it was unnecessary. Not long ago he would have been able to ignore the rumors and stares entirely. Or at least pretend he hadn’t heard things, like those Aizu idiots blundering and Iizuka-san’s bad jokes. But it was just… sometimes he got so angry at the slightest provocation.  

Kenta enjoyed it. Whenever Kenshin’s temper flared, it would flow to his side, without waiting for him to ask or prompt it. It just happened.

Kenshin wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or bad. It was different to how he had always tried to behave, but then again, didn’t everyone get angry sometimes? And compared to Master’s nearly legendary temper, these little outburst were very mild indeed.

 

* * *

 

The girl was certainly beautiful. The way she carried those trays, how she held herself, her expression utterly calm like still water on a pond, it all pointed to refinement. For a homeless girl on the run, it was very unusual.

Katsura frowned in thought. At sunrise a report had come from Iizuka, telling him that Kenshin had gotten into a fight and had returned to the Choshuu safehouse with a girl passed out from heavy drinking. It went without saying that a girl of honest name and reputation would never commit such an act, not if she had something to lose.

Iizuka had immediately seen this as an opportunity to get someone closer to Kenshin and had convinced Okami-san to arrange a permanent stay for the girl. It wasn’t a bad idea, per se. They were all worried about Kenshin’s state of mind, how very cold and closed off he had become. If they could push Kenshin to create a connection to someone, to talk about things and have a little life outside the job… it could be very good. An inexpensive way to help the boy handle the stress.

Well, as long as this scheme wouldn’t compromise the safety of the inn or Kenshin’s identity as Choshuu Ishin Shishi’s assassin. Iizuka was of a similar mind and had already stationed a few Choshuu men to keep watch and follow the girl if she chose to leave the inn. It would be a simple matter to silence her should she try to contact anyone.

Besides, Katsura couldn’t help but notice how Kenshin’s eyes followed the girl as they passed her on the way to the backyard garden. So there _was_ an honest interest...

If the girl truly was as she seemed, if she didn’t overreach or try to contact anyone… yes, this could be a very good thing indeed.

“Iizuka, to be safe, check her background.” Katsura murmured and waved his hand to dismiss the examiner.

“Yes sir.” Iizuka nodded, bowed slightly, and left.

That simple matter dealt with, Katsura turned to Kenshin, noting how he looked aside, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. Obviously the boy knew he had overstepped his boundaries. Good. Now, as for the far more damning part of last night’s incident…

Katagai knew how he preferred to question people and didn’t need an invitation to broach the subject, “Himura, we didn’t come here to talk about the girl. You killed a man last night.”

Too chastised to speak, Kenshin nodded.

Katsura sighed and kept his voice gentle, prompting the boy, “Who do you think he was? Your opinion.”

“An assassin sent by the Bakufu.”

_Hmm, that is disturbing._ Katsura frowned. “Shinsengumi?”

“No. I have never seen a killer like him,” Kenshin said softly. “Not a samurai, but rather a professional assassin.”

Katsura didn’t doubt the claim; Kenshin had very good eye when it came to swordsmanship. No, the worrying thing about this was that the Choshuu spies sent to investigate the incident hadn’t found _anything_. Kenshin had said he had cut a man in half in the middle of the street… yet, no one had seen or heard it. It had been cleaned up before the policing forces had a chance to stumble across it.

The obvious conclusion was that they had finally slipped up somewhere and Kenshin’s identity had been found out. However, who knew it? How far had the information spread? Could it still be contained?

“Only a select few men in our clan know of your existence…” Katagai hesitated. “I can’t see how anyone could have sent an assassin after you.”

Kenshin narrowed his eyes. “Information _has_ to have leaked out of Choshuu… I think there might be a traitor among us.”

Katagai grimaced at the suggestion.

However, Kenshin didn’t falter. Instead, he turned to look directly at Katsura, not hesitating to voice such doubts.

Choshuu had come a long way in the past year, and it was in large part thanks to the men in Kyoto. Katsura had handpicked them all and only a selected few knew enough to piece together the clues of Hitokiri Battousai’s identity. Not a single one of those men had a reason to abandon the cause. They were all men of conviction, loyal and hardened by years of personal work for him.

To suspect there were traitors among them… It was too hasty a conclusion, especially when it could be something else. Perhaps a slip up of some sort? In any case, the matter needed his utmost attention. Katsura inclined his head, “It’s a possibility. However, there is one more thing. Furutaka was supposed to be at the meeting last night at the Gion festival, but he was captured by Shinsengumi yesterday.”

Come to think of it, hadn’t Furutaka been transferred to another safe-house because he had stirred rumors? The man shouldn’t have known about Hitokiri Battousai, it had been before that name had gained fame… but he had seen Kenshin working, hadn’t he?

Damn, that could explain the leak… though the timing was a bit too tight to be realistic. Yet, even that was far more likely than suspecting a traitor in their ranks. However, he couldn’t dismiss any possibility, not yet. Not before he determined the truth and contained the leak.

“So, will you take a bodyguard to the meeting?”

Katsura raised his brow at the suggestion. Kenshin disliked the spotlight, but now he was volunteering? It wasn’t a bad idea. Especially now that the situation was getting dangerous. After all, Hitokiri Battousai was only a killer used to spread fear. What the Bakufu truly wanted was the head of the snake – himself.

However, Miyabe, another Ishin Shishi leader, had been among the few he had needed to keep in the loop about the assassinations. The old codger wouldn’t react well if he took Kenshin with him. Especially now that they had quarreled over Miyabe’s insane plan to burn down Kyoto.

“No, I will be alright. But I want you to be careful. This leak is a critical matter and I will see to it personally. For now, focus on the Shinsengumi.”

“Yes sir.” Kenshin nodded softly, bowed and left.

Katsura sighed, feeling a heavy weight press down on his shoulders. Traitors, captured men… insane radical idiots like Miyabe, who couldn’t see further than their own noses...

The situation was getting very bad indeed.

 

* * *

 

While Katsura-san had seemed to take last night’s disaster in stride, Kenshin couldn’t help worrying. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for the Ishin Shishi.

However, the fact stood: an assassin had been waiting for him and had tried to kill him. That would have never happened if the Bakufu hadn’t found out the truth about Hitokiri Battousai. After all, outside the job, he hadn’t done anything to catch the Bakufu’s attention. He had never spoken out of turn, never let anyone see him covered in blood, never let anything slip.

So, the only way for them to know his identity was from a traitor.

And if his identity, one of the most guarded secrets among the Choshuu Ishin Shishi, had been leaked, then what else could they have found out?

Could they have found out about Katsura-san?

Thus far, Katsura-san had avoided their attention by pretending to be a simple middle man, a messenger carrying important information from one politician to another, that he was just another wealthy samurai with good family connections. If the Bakufu found out his real importance… it would be a crushing blow to the Choshuu Ishin Shishi. Especially as Katsura-san seemed to be the only one keeping the more short-tempered radical groups in line. Or at least, that was what Kenshin had gathered from Iizuka-san’s idle gossip.

The ugly fact was that among the Ishin Shishi, Katsura-san was only leader he truly wanted to stand behind. They shared the same vision for the future, for the new era… if not for Katsura-san, Kenshin didn’t know if he could continue fighting. It wasn’t like much had been achieved this year, not even with over a hundred assassinations staining his hands.

And now, the situation was getting dangerous.

Traitors among their ranks, Shinsengumi capturing their men and even the Mimawarigumi chasing them like bloodhounds... No, it seemed like _every_ faction fighting under the Bakufu’s flag was hunting the rebels.

And now, in the middle of this… Tomoe had decided to stay.

Iizuka-san and Katsura-san hadn’t seemed too concerned about her. They had just wanted to check her background, to make sure that she was a normal, innocent girl caught in this mess, not a spy.

But if the Bakufu had found out about Hitokiri Battousai, then what would stop the traitor from telling about the inn too? What if they sent their men to attack the inn?

What then?

The men here knew what was at stake. But she, she… why did she have to stay? Was it because what she had seen?

But hadn’t Katsura-san said Furutaka had been captured yesterday? Even if there was no traitor, couldn’t the Bakufu find out these things just by questioning him? Kenshin’s breath caught in realization.

_Oh… so that’s why no one cares about her._

After all, what did one girl matter now that the Bakufu could get the same information from multiple sources? The Ishin Shishi had no reason to keep her here, had they? Actually, it was worse than that – Tomoe was in great danger just by being here.

_I brought her here._

Kenshin swallowed in half-veiled panic, guilt twisting his stomach. He couldn’t have any woman dying because of him. Not again, not like Kasumi had died…

_No… I need to get her away._

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, getting Tomoe to leave was a lot easier said than done. He had pulled her aside to his room and tried to reason with her. He had told her she was in danger if she stayed. He had explained that it really wasn’t good for her to stay in an inn with all these men, that surely she must know what it would do to her reputation! He had even gone so far as to say directly that her family wouldn’t approve of her staying.

Not a single thing he said made a difference!

She always rebuked his words, calm as she pleased. She said she was glad for the chance to work at the inn, that Okami-san was a nice and understanding employer, and that she didn’t have a family to go back to. And the worst thing?

When he finally lost his temper and rudely stated, “I don’t know what your situation is, but we are in no state to look after you,” then _she_ had the gall to ask:

“So then, will you finish me off? Like you killed the samurai in black?”

The nerve! Didn’t she care about her own safety at all? And the assumption that he would kill her? Like he could kill _anyone_ in cold blood!

_I might be an assassin, but I am not a damn cold-blooded murderer!_

It shouldn’t have mattered what people thought about him anymore. Kenshin had heard it all and he knew all too well that normal people couldn’t understand why what he did was necessary. But somehow, the implication that he could kill a _woman,_ an innocent like Kasumi, just like that…

It hurt.

So Kenshin tried to explain it to her. “You can think whatever you want, but I am only doing this to bring about a new age where everyone can live in peace. I don’t kill indiscriminately, only armed members of Bakufu who oppose us…. Naturally civilians might oppose us as well, but I would never strike an unarmed man.”

It sounded reasonable to his ears. Surely, now she understood?

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, her face still as a mask, her ki collected, cold and almost suppressed... then she finally said, “So bad people carry swords, and good people don’t? What if I had been carrying a sword last night, would you have…?”

_What? No! But, but…_ Kenshin’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s…”

“When you have an answer, please let me know.” She nodded to him dispassionately and turned to leave.

_What the hell…._

“Wait a minute! You are just going to walk out?”

She did.

Kenshin stared after her, completely speechless. Why had she done that? Why did nothing she did ever make any sense? Why couldn’t she just listen to him or even _try_ to understand!

_I’m not like that!_

_I’m not._

_It isn’t like that._

His head was starting to ache, and Kenshin rubbed his brow in vain, trying to relieve the pain. Kenta nudged at him comfortingly. But her words kept ringing through his mind in an endless loop. _Why would she think that I could have killed her?_

Kenshin’s eyes shot open and he stilled, remembering back to that night, to the exact moment he had realized what she had seen…

_Oh…_

_Maybe… she might have a point._

“Damn it! Am I going crazy or… are things finally starting to make sense?”

 

* * *

 

That night, Kenshin was almost relieved to have work. If for no other reason than to escape from Tomoe, because as he had feared… she still shared his room.

Not only were there his sleeping issues and her earlier comments, but she was a _girl_.

Sure, Kenshin had lived in small rooms with no walls to separate the space before, with Master and briefly with Osumi-san, too. And even before then, when he had still his family. After all, the poor didn’t have walls to divide their small houses just for modesty. No, in those conditions, it was almost expected to see people change clothes and bathe and what not, so people learned to ignore such things. But, it was different now.

It truly was!

Because Tomoe… well, she was a girl. A girl that was a bit older than him and she was so tall, so elegant and beautiful. And he was expected to relax with her around all the time?

It wasn’t possible!

And what if she _stared_? What if she found it awkward too? She was clearly from a better class and upbringing than him. She had a last name, a real last name… not something that had been made up.

What if she didn’t know how to ignore people like he did?   

What if he said something embarrassing in his sleep? That is, if he could sleep at all? When Kenshin had been a child, Master had complained that he cried out during his nightmares.

Or what if he did something really stupid and childish without intending to? What if she saw it? Like him playing with Kasumi’s top… She would laugh for sure! What if she went and told that to someone else? Like one of those tittering serving girls?

This was a disaster!

But what could he do about it? Okami-san had already said there was no room for her anywhere else, and as it was him who had brought her here in the first place, he should just share his room like a gentleman.

_Ugh… maybe I should have left her on the street._

Not that he would have, ever. He wasn’t like that… but still.

Needless to say, Kenshin felt nervous when he got back to the inn that night. The job had taken longer than he had anticipated, but if there was a mixed blessing in being forced to follow the targets to edge of town, it was the fact that Tomoe had to be asleep already. So, now he could just wash his hands, calm down a bit, and then sneak to his corner to sleep…

It was a good plan, but somehow… no matter how hard he scrubbed in the darkness of the bathhouse, the blood wouldn’t leave his hands.

Kenta slipped to its side of the wall sometime later, but when it went… the unrest and disgusting feeling the killing brought came back with ferocity. The smell of blood was strong enough to choke him, and his hands… his hands were completely covered in blood.

Kenshin continued scrubbing, trying desperately to keep breathing, in and out, in and out. But gods, it felt so bad. He didn’t want this, he had never wanted this.

Forcing himself to keep going, he scrubbed and scrubbed, drawing clean water from the well whenever the last bucked felt too stained… He didn’t know how long he had been at it, but finally he didn’t see the blood anymore. His hands were all wrinkled and soft, his callouses on the verge of peeling off. It wasn’t good. If Master had seen it, he would have scolded him. After all, callouses protected the hands and ensured a good sword grip.

Yet, he didn’t know any other way to achieve this numbness. This exhausted feeling, where he felt almost calm enough to catch a nap in his corner.

Kenshin sighed. He truly needed to figure out a better way to numb these feelings. Maybe he should break down the wall, so he could have Kenta with him all the time, not just during the kill and for a short time after…

The inn was very quiet. Everybody had gone to sleep a long time ago. The flickers of the presences in the sea of ki were so small, like fireflies floating all around him. This truly was the best time to be in the inn. He knew that he wasn’t alone, but no one could stare or whisper about him, no one could avoid him in fear or distaste. No, right now… he could just be.

Keeping his steps light, Kenshin sneaked up the creaky wooden stairs to the second floor. When he had been a kid, it had been a fun game to walk without a sound and try to ambush Master. Not that he had ever managed it, not really. Only when he had finally learned to mask his ki presence had he stood a real chance, but somehow Master had always seemed to know where he was.

These Choshuu samurai residing in the inn would never even see him coming. They were so oblivious, so noisy… always so sure of themselves.

_Perhaps it’s good they fear me._

Kenshin sighed moodily, before holding his breath and ghosting the last few paces to his corner room’s sliding door, then gently pushing it open.

_What?_

Tomoe was awake, writing quietly by candlelight.

_Why? Doesn’t she have to work early in the morning?_

Kenshin didn’t know how long he stared at her from the doorway, almost mesmerized by her meticulous movements as she wrote… But then, maybe from some unwitting noise he had made, or just her being careful, she turned to look over her shoulder right at him.

Her eyes widened in surprise, just a little. Then, after a short pause, she said softly, “Please, come in.”

Her voice made all the little hairs at the back of his neck stand up, and Kenshin swallowed, more than slightly alarmed. Why? It wasn’t like she was any threat to him!

Slowly, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He silently made his way to his corner, to the good and safe spot next to the window where he could see everyone coming and was still able to look at the night sky. Kenshin took both of his swords from his sash, and sat down, letting the wakizashi lie next to him and propping the katana against his shoulder at an easy reach. The book-stack against his back felt solid, almost comforting.

Yet, the nervous energy thrummed just under his skin. There was no way to sleep, to relax… not while she was there.

She wasn’t even looking at him. She was writing again, her movements still meticulous, the slight sounds of her brush quieter than the snoring next door. Even the candlelight wasn’t too bright, not enough to disturb.

The katana in his arms wasn’t doing anything to calm him. But what else could he do? He knew he should sleep. Gods only knew how tired he was after the job, the horrible job that had taken too long and been too easy.

Those men hadn’t been able to do anything but die like bugs.

Then, she closed the book she had been writing in, set her brush down… and blew out the candle.

Darkness settled in the room, soft shadows from the summer night painting everything in hues of blue. And then she, she…

Kenshin looked aside hastily, feeling a mortified heat rising on his cheeks. He could hear the rustle of clothes, the futon being rolled open and blanked being pulled aside as she settled to lie on _his_ bed.

Her breathing was soft and steady. Her ki felt so familiar, cold and collected… so defined. Kenshin truly liked her ki – among all these flickers around him, hers felt like a calm spot in the sea, safe… just like home.

They stayed like that for a long time. Her breathing steadily in the shadows, him listening to the calm rhythm and just enjoying her ki.

Kenshin didn’t know when he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Kenshin tried his best to avoid her. It wasn’t exactly easy, because no matter what he did, it seemed that the girl – Tomoe – was _everywhere_. Not in person, but absolutely everyone in his vicinity seemed to have something to say about her. Not to him directly, but they talked about her and he heard their comments.

It seemed that all the men were really taken with her. However, while they weren’t shy about singing praises to her beauty, they also seemed to think that just because she was sharing a room with him, she was either sleeping _with_ him… or she was somehow a loose woman. Kenshin didn’t like those assumptions. He couldn’t even understand why people had gotten the idea in their heads. The girl – Tomoe –  she wasn’t like that. She wasn’t!

From the beginning, she had always been calm and collected, just like a fine lady. Nothing like the sort that the men kept snickering about. And even if she had a special someone, that someone certainly wouldn’t be _him_.

No, Tomoe and him hadn’t needed to exchange words to mutually agree to avoid each other during the day.

The serving girls in the inn were even worse, in their own way. While they didn’t make rude assumptions about Tomoe, they seemed to think even worse of her than the men. They thought Tomoe strange because she never smiled. They thought it was unfair that the men praised her looks. Why would a cold and distant girl like her deserve all those admiring glances?

Kenshin understood those whispers even less. After all, it wasn’t like Tomoe wanted to attract the men’s attention. If she liked it, she would have invited it somehow, by smiling or flirting. It wasn’t her fault that she was really beautiful and men noticed it. Besides, she wasn’t distant, she was just really polite.

And to be honest, she had been really, really nice about having to share the room with him.

She hadn’t said a thing about his oddities, not even when he took forever to fall asleep. And for some reason, she was always awake when he came back from the job. They didn’t talk, no… she never said anything, even though he _knew_ she knew that he had just killed someone. Instead, she would simply stop whatever she was doing, be it writing or sewing, and then she would roll open his bed and lay there in the darkness.  

They would stay awake for hours together… him listening to her steady breathing and feeling her calm and familiar ki.

It had become a routine by now – almost a comfortable one.

One day, when Kenshin came back from the town, he overheard one of the serving girls hissing at Tomoe angrily, “You two suit each other, both frozen to the core.”

It wasn’t nearly the worst thing people had ever said about him and Kenshin would have just pretended to ignore it, if he hadn’t seen Tomoe excuse herself hastily and escape to the backyard.

It was the first time he had seen her obviously affected by _anything_ , that he couldn’t help feeling curious and following her discreetly.

Tomoe settled under the maple tree next to the bathhouse and pulled out her book from the folds of her kimono. It was the same book she carried everywhere she went, the same one he had seen her writing in time and time again.

It had to be her diary, Kenshin finally realized.

He had never seen anyone keeping a diary, but he had heard of them. Some people would write their thoughts down, just to remember them better. It had always seemed a rich person’s fancy to him, because paper and ink were expensive luxuries… at least, by his standards.  

Tomoe opened the book, sifting through the pages, reading quietly. However, somehow he couldn’t help but think that she seemed sad. It was because of her ki. Instead of being being collected and calm… now it just felt freezing cold, like snowfall on a midwinter night.

Was she reminding herself of something?

_Perhaps her family?_ Kenshin frowned thoughtfully. _Didn’t she say she was alone now?_

Suddenly, the servant girl’s words seemed that much more painful. Because if it was true that Tomoe had been left alone… perhaps she was reading her book to numb herself, just like he did to avoid feeling the pain.

It was an awful thing to realize.

How hard had it been for her, to be alone in the city as a girl? Without family, or anyone to support her... Where had she stayed? What had she had to do to survive? How had she lived before he had stumbled across her?

What else did she have beside her book and those worn clothes?

Kenshin looked aside, feeling ashamed. He knew all too well what it was like to have so little. He still didn’t have much, but he had been living with next to nothing all his life. She couldn’t have... Before something bad had happened, she must have had _everything._

And now she had nothing.

_I have been really rude, haven’t I?_ Kenshin realized with a sinking heart.

Maybe it would be good for her to stay here. Even though it was dangerous… at least she wasn’t completely alone. Here there were people like Okami-san who were willing to give her a second chance, some work and a place to stay.

_Yes, maybe it isn’t so bad that she stayed._

It didn’t feel right to intrude on her any longer, so Kenshin left. Maybe he could use this chance to take apart his swords. It had been a while since he had cleaned them, hadn’t it?

 

* * *

 

After that Kenshin tried to be kinder towards Tomoe, not avoid her so vehemently. Whenever there was a need to share things in their room, he didn’t offer any protests. It was as if, realizing how little she truly had to her name had opened his eyes. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about the whispers she had to endure, but then again… he had to suffer through those, too.

One night, after a particularly messy job, Kenshin was once again washing his hands and generally feeling sorry for himself. He had followed the target forever, before he had finally been unable to wait for a better chance, so he’d had to kill his targets right on their home street. The kill itself had been easy; they all were these days… but for some reason Tomoe’s earlier words about only striking down those who were armed kept ringing in his ears.

It was hard to justify killing only armed targets when it really didn’t matter whether they carried weapons or not. Armed with swords or western guns, alone or guarded by bodyguards, they all died the same. Killing was simply too easy. Kenshin was too fast and even when someone managed to block his strikes… well, with Kenta and their ki enhancement trick, they could cut through anything, even their target’s _swords_.

So did it matter if the targets carried something to defend themselves with?

If the order came, would he kill a woman? A child? Kenshin hoped he never had to find out. Because if it would advance the Ishin Shishi’s goals, if it was necessary… Kenshin had a terrible feeling that Katsura-san wouldn’t even _hesitate_ to make that order.

So where did that leave him?

True, Kenshin killed on Katsura’s orders. But was he a cold-blooded killer, a murderer like some of his watchers said? Kenshin didn’t think so. He didn’t like killing. No, he hated it. He had always hated it.  

He hated that it was necessary.

To create the new world, to ensure the happiness of the common people, it was necessary to kill people…. wasn’t it?

But then again, were these endless assassinations doing anything more for the people’s happiness than Master’s bandit slaughter had ever done? Kenshin had joined this rebellion because he had believed that this was the right way to use the strength of Hiten Mitsurugi… but was he doing anything good, truly?

A familiar ki presence moving closer pulled him out of his thoughts. That coldness, the calm spot in the sea of ki, it could be no one else but Tomoe. He wasn’t surprised that she was awake; she was always awake when he came home from a job... but why was she coming to him?

“You should patch your wound before you wash your hands.”

_What?_ Kenshin blinked, reflexively touching his cheek.

_Oh... it’s bleeding, again._

And now that he noticed it, the blood had trickled down his neck and some of it had dripped onto the wash basin. Kenshin looked aside, feeling somewhat embarrassed to have been caught like this. Without looking at her, he took the small towel she offered to him and pressed it against the wound.  

_Why does this keep happening?_

The wound was months old already. It shouldn’t keep bleeding like this.

Tomoe watched him quietly, but there was a strange look in her eyes. “Do you intend to keep killing like this?”

Kenshin tensed and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Somehow, right now… all his previous arguments felt hollow. All his grand reasonings felt empty, too meaningless to be repeated.

Her dark eyes judged him in the silence. She didn’t insist on answers, though. She merely waited for a moment, before turning and leaving.

Kenshin watched her go.

The towel she had brought him felt soft against his skin. It had been kind of her to bring it, but how had she known it was needed?

And that question..

How could he answer her, when he didn’t know the answer himself?

But if he didn’t intend to keep killing… how could he stop? There was still the Ishin Shishi and the rebellion to consider. It wasn’t like he could just leave the cause and Katsura-san, not until the Bakufu had been brought down.

Yet, someday… wouldn’t it be wonderful to live in a world where killing wasn’t necessary?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 3.3.2016


	8. Wolves on doorstep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: violence, murder and a description of a panic attack

# Chapter 21. Wolves on doorstep

_So Kenshin reacted positively to the girl. That’s good. One of the very few good things I have heard all week._ Katsura sighed and folded the envelope shut, slipping it into his sleeve.

“Let’s head to the inn,” he murmured softly to Katagai. “There is one more matter I need to attend to tonight.”

It was very late; the meeting had run far longer than expected. Everybody was on the edge. First Furutaka’s capture, then the discrete hunt for a leak, and now Miyabe was refusing to see reason. Katsura was almost ready to cut ties with him, but if he did… who knew what that radical old codger would decide to do?

No, with those worries plaguing him, the developments with Kenshin and that girl felt like a slight ray of hope, something that just might be enough to make a difference. If it was handled right, that is.

The isolation and stress Kenshin had to endure were enough to drive an adult to insanity. For a boy so young… Katsura shook his head, well aware of why Iizuka was so on edge. There had been other hitokiri, and not a few of them had been struck down by their own faction for good reason.

It was a terrible job that quickly ate up the men who did it – few could handle it longer than a couple months. Inevitably they would meet their match in battle, or they would lose their purpose. A killer who couldn’t be trusted was a knife to his handler’s throat, always. No matter their intentions, they always knew too much. And if an assassin couldn’t be trusted, the only place for him was a nameless grave.  

It was too bad that Iizuka and the men at the inn hadn’t managed to welcome Kenshin into their ranks. If they had, maybe this whole dilemma could have been avoided.

Yet, as it stood, Katsura was now forced to rely on that girl, that Yukishiro Tomoe.

Iizuka had been very thorough in checking her background, but he had found surprisingly little. She was undoubtedly from a higher ranked samurai family from the Kanto region. However, her name hadn’t been in any of the clan registries. It could mean two things: either she had lied about it… or her name had been wiped from the records.

Katagai had immediately jumped to conclusions, thinking that she was a spy and recommending that she be disposed of at the soonest opportunity. But then again, it was the bodyguard’s job to be overly suspicious.

Katsura couldn’t allow suspicion to cloud his judgement, not when so much was at stake. After all, the girl didn’t act like a spy. She hadn’t made contact with anyone outside of the inn, not even when given ample opportunity to do so. No, she had settled into her new job and performed it very well. Even Okami-san had nothing bad to say about her.

Besides, wasn’t it only logical for a girl with a tarnished reputation to make up a new name and try to start again?

A lost girl, a stray cat looking for a home was far better than a girl of honest name, at least for this purpose. She had no ties, no one to miss her… and she was a lovely, lonely young lady.

Katsura paused to listen outside the girl’s door, before asking softly, “May I enter?”

“Come in.”

She had a very nice voice. A cultured Kanto accent, like Iizuka had mentioned. Katsura stepped inside, sliding the door shut after him. “It’s late. I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“If you are looking for Himura-san, he is out for the night,” she replied steadily, wariness in her gaze as she set down the shawl she had been embroidering.

Katsura inclined his head. “I know. I am the one who gives him his orders. I know all of his movements.”

The girl’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Please,” Katsura smiled, “would you like to join me for tea?”

She followed him downstairs in tense silence, to the dining room where Okami-san brought them tea. The girl took it upon herself to pour it for them, but while she didn’t go through the motions of a proper tea ceremony, her movement had elegance and refinement – a routine that could only be established in a well-to-do household.

Katsura studied her subtly as he led her through the normal conversation topics: how her stay had been, what she thought about her work, was there any trouble she needed help with. The easy questions worked wonders to calm her down, enough that she didn’t tense up when he asked, “And how has your stay been with Himura-kun?”

“He has been very respectful.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Katsura scoffed, not to criticize, but to express his wry amusement. “He is truly a polite and well-mannered young man. Exceptionally so, for a killer.”

She gasped softly, then sipped her tea to cover her surprise.

She had remarkable composure, Katsura noted with growing respect. However, she was still young and she had given him enough to work with – she knew about Kenshin’s work.

Of course, Katsura had suspected it to be so, especially after hearing Iizuka’s comment about how Kenshin’s sword had been duller, that he had displayed hesitation in his work once again.

_Yes, here is the source of it._

The girl's eyes narrowed and her tone gained an edge as she asked a question of her own, “How could you make him your killer? He is just a boy. He can’t even be of age yet…”

Katsura nearly smiled. _Ah, I should have known._

It was always youth, childhood cut short that women took offence to.

Then again, hadn’t he and Takasugi both felt uneasy at the prospect of using one so young? But there had been valid reasons, then and now. The desperate need for Kenshin’s skills hadn’t disappeared and that was all there was to it. But how could he make her see it?

A willful girl like her, she would just make Kenshin hesitate again and that was unacceptable. No, in order for her to be useful, she needed to _understand_.  

“Because he believes the same as I do, that we are doing this to build a new era where everyone can live in peace,” Katsura said gently and glanced down at his tea, taking a slow, calculated sip. “These killings and assassinations, they are madness… but it must be done.”

“Madness?” Her eyes were wary, but her head tilted to the side just a shade, an unconscious display of curiosity.

“When I was young, Takasugi and I and many of our friends studied under Yoshida Shoin. He was executed by the Bakufu.” Katsura explained, keeping his voice gentle. “He once said that we are destroying an era of Tokugawa rule that drove men to madness. If we are to build a new age, we must now go mad ourselves.”

Her uncertainty and fear were obvious in the tense lines of her posture, how carefully blank she had schooled her beautiful face. Yet, for all that she could guard her body, she couldn’t guard her eyes. No, she knew about hate and rage, the desire for justice he was speaking about.

Katsura laid down his tea cup, drained empty. “We need to go mad enough to not turn away from our extreme justice. That is the driving force of the Choshuu faction. Himura is the vanguard of our mad justice and is fulfilling the harshest of roles.”

The second those last words left his lips, the thread of understanding, the commonality he had forged with her was shattered.

She shied back, whispering almost harshly, “And so? You are telling me this because you want me to _fulfill a role_?”

 _Oh..? That’s what she objects to?_ Katsura raised his brow slightly. What a telling response. She _had_ been used before for another’s bidding.

 _Hmm, should I press forward or…_  

_No, it’s enough for now._

He had planted the seeds. It wouldn’t do to press too hard now, or she could rebuff his words just because of a former injury.

This girl… she had a very strong sense of justice. She was no weak, simpering ingenue, and Katsura liked that, truly. A weaker girl would never survive the task he had set out for her.

“I am not telling you to do anything. I just want you to understand what we are doing here.” Katsura said evenly, giving her a respectful nod before taking his sword and leaving.

Now, only time would tell if anything would come of this gambit.

If the girl became what they needed her to be... if Kenshin could hold on for a little longer, then perhaps something could be arranged for him.

Tempers were nearing at a boiling point in the Capital. Something would break, and soon. Never before had the Bakufu been so disorganized, so vulnerable for outside influence. If they could press just a little more, they had a real chance at gaining the leverage they needed in the court.  

_If only I could keep Miyabe in line…_

 

* * *

 

The night’s job, taking out a merchant who had been supplying Western weapons to a government procurer, had been quite far out of town. It had been an unexpected relief, truly. These days, the city was practically crawling with Bakufu men, the policing forces’ patrols and the provincial samurai both on high alert.

Now, Kenshin and Iizuka-san were heading back to Kyoto on a road that passed through a nice, quiet bamboo grove. Or, it would have been quiet if not for Iizuka’s nervous commentary. “I swear I heard that bodyguard shoot you with a riffle. Yet, you say you are fine. Fine? I have seen the wounds those damned weapons cause, so how the hell could you be alright?”

“I dodged.” Kenshin murmured distractedly. He could have sworn there had been something moving at the edge of his perception…

_Yes, there they are. A group of ki presences, moving towards us?_

He raised his hand, signaling for Iizuka-san to be silent, and shooed him into the trees just to be safe. Most likely those were their own men. After all, this was a small side road and there was no reason for anyone to use it at this time of night.

At a distance, he saw white mountain stripes flashing in the moonlight.

_Damn it._

“There they are!”

“Stop!”

“We are the Shinsengumi! Surrender in the name of the Shogun!

Kenshin cursed and started to run, hoping to lose them. The last thing he wanted was to kill anyone he didn’t need to. Ahead of him, the road divided in two, one leading downhill, down to the town… and other up the mountain slope, up a set of paved stairs leading to a shrine the Ishin Shishi had used before.

The men chasing him were getting too close for comfort.

“He is not alone!

 _Oh for fuck’s sake!_ Kenshin huffed. A bit higher up on the stairs, Iizuka-san was waiting for him. Undoubtedly he had hoped to regroup there.

_They saw him... damn, I have no choice but to fight, do I?_

Kenshin drew breath, focused… and invited Kenta to his side. It flowed through the wall and the world slowed to a halt.

The first target went down without even having time to block, from a clean strike to the shoulder. A well-timed quickdraw took care of the next two in one motion, but the fourth had been slower to run, so he had enough time to block.

It didn’t matter.

Pushing his ki down his sword, Kenshin enhanced the strike and cut through the steel like it wasn’t even there.

The last one stared at him with eyes flown wide open, his mouth gaping to form a—

Kenshin dashed, jumping and coming down with a perfect _Ryutsuisen_ , cutting through his head just in time to silence him.

Then there were no sounds but his heavy breathing, the men’s blood and guts spreading silently down the stairs.

It was so filthy. They hadn’t needed to die...

“Are you alright, Himura?”

Kenshin took a deep breath and exhaled, slowly, carefully. Then he nodded, and flicked his wrist, shaking most of the blood from his sword before sheathing it.

“We can’t stay here. There may be more,” Iizuka-san said shakily, before running down the stairs.

Without another word, Kenshin followed.

Those five… they had come out of nowhere. The Shinsengumi shouldn’t patrol this far out of town and even if they did, what reason would they have to watch a small road like this one? They were a policing force! It was their job to guard the common people, not chase after…

“It was an ambush, wasn’t it?”

Iizuka-san glanced at him, not even slowing down. “It was. They knew that we were there. I will take the news to Katsura-san immediately. We definitely have a traitor among us.”

At the edge of the town, Iizuka-san ditched him, choosing to go report to Katsura-san directly. Just to be safe, Kenshin offered to escort him. After all, the examiner had no way of defending himself against another ambush like that. However, Iizuka-san looked at him like he was an idiot and said, “It’s you they want, not me.”

Kenshin was left standing there, watching his departing back… the panic and danger feeling realer than ever.

The sun was rising and the merchants were setting up at the marketplace as he headed back home, trying desperately not to hurry.

Nothing stood out like a person in a hurry.

Yet, it was difficult. He felt absolutely filthy. The job had been bad enough, but now there were additional deaths on his conscience just because… Kenshin closed his eyes, and drew breath. No, he couldn’t think that. It had been an ambush, the Shinsengumi had known about them and had hunted them down. Even if he had tried to lead them on a wild goose chase in the forest, they could have stumbled across Iizuka-san.

Iizuka-san was no fighter and worse, if the Shinsengumi had captured him, all would have been lost. The sleazy weasel of a man simply knew too much.

The inn was already waking up when Kenshin arrived, exhausted and tense as a bowstring drawn to the breaking point. Thankfully his clothes didn’t have any telling marks of the night’s disaster. No, these days he was good enough to kill them and avoid the blood-spatter, even when he couldn’t strike with battoujutsu. After all, with Kenta’s help, he could see incoming strikes in time, dodge around them, and choose his own, striking in such a way that his targets died as quickly as possible.  

The hand-washing routine took forever, but still… when he was done and got to his room, he couldn’t help feeling off-balance and miserable when he saw that it was empty.

Of course Tomoe had already risen for work. Kenshin knew that perfectly well. There was no reason for him to be disappointed, and yet… he had found it easier to calm down and fall asleep, soothed by her steady breathing and the calmness of her ki, that quiet spot in the sea.

He had slept better these past few days than he had in months, just because of her.

And now, she wasn’t there.

Kenshin sighed morosely and settled to sit next to the window, at his usual spot. He set his katana to lean against his shoulder, his wakizashi by his side as per routine.

_Do you intend to keep killing like this?_

_If I had had a sword… would you have?_

The questions Tomoe had asked him earlier rose to his mind like they always did, whenever he had a moment to think. And yet, no matter how hard he thought about it, he still hadn’t managed to come up with an answer that didn’t feel like an excuse, a feeble lie not worth stating.

_…I just don’t know how to answer her._

Kenshin sighed, drawing his arms around himself, huddling against the wall. The terrible thoughts continued to plague him, stirring up restless feelings, and yet, he needed to sleep. He knew that all too well. He couldn’t go without sleeping, not when Kyoto was getting so dangerous and the Ishin Shishi needed him… and yet, she wasn't _here_.

But what else could he do?

Morosely, he patted his sleeve, fiddling with the familiar clunky form of Kasumi’s top. At a distance, he heard the men stirring, getting ready for breakfast. Without a second thought, the top found its way into his hands and he tied the yarn around the knob, setting it spinning on the floor. As always, there was something calming in watching it spin, seeing the old faded colors merge together.

“Live for me” Kasumi had insisted, even when the bandit’s sword had pierced her throat and she was left to die, choking on her own blood, like a worthless piece of trash. In the world of the Shogun, under the laws of the Bakufu… a wonderful woman like her had been sold into slavery, reduced to nothing more than a thing because of _money_.

Little Miya had suffered too. Her house had been burned down, everything she had had been taken to repay a debt. And just because she had been brave enough to stand up and protest against the injustice of it, her life had been demanded to apologize for the insult.

It was wrong.

The top spun steadily, before falling over. He set it spinning again.

There was truth in Tomoe’s words, in her insistence that killing was wrong. But the Shogun’s world was wrong, too. And if no one was willing to stand up against injustice, how could anything ever change?

If he could help to bring about that change by staining his hands with blood, no matter how painful and difficult it was… then it was worth it.

_Yes, that’s why I fight._

_I can’t ever forget that._

Kenshin closed his eyes and his exhaustion finally took over.

 

* * *

 

There was someone close to him, close enough to reach to him…

_Ambush!_

Kenshin’s eyes snapped open and he rose, drawing his sword to the throat of a target, ready to—

That pale and delicate throat, the scent of white plum blossoms… Kenshin’s eyes widened and finally he registered the naked steel at her jugular. Just a hair’s breadth further and it would cut through—

_No!!!_

_Get away!_

He pushed her forcefully, to get her as far as he could from the danger.

 _I almost – no, no, no…_ Kenshin’s heart was beating rabbit-fast as he gulped for air. _I, I… I almost cut… If it had been just a bit, just a little bit further... no, no, no…_

 _Would you have…? Would you?_ Her voice asked him, that question, that terrible question repeating inside his head in an endless loop. He couldn’t see or hear or remember anything else but her soft voice and dark eyes as she asked that question time and time again. _Would you have…? Would you have...? Do you intend to keep killing like this? Would you? If I had a sword… would you have?_

 _No, no, no…_ Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep breathing. _In and out, in and out, just keep breathing, idiot, and stop thinking!_

Then something stroked him gently, the petting comfort feeling, but it wasn’t Kenta? Kenshin gasped wildly and looked up, only to see her there, looking at him, her dark eyes wide with fright.

_She is scared? Oh god, oh god… I, I… What did I do, what did I do…_

It took forever for him to get enough control to still his frantic shaking, to gather his nerves just enough to find words again. Yet, even then the sheer shame of it was almost overpowering.

“I’m sorry,” Kenshin whispered, staring blankly at the floor. “I bragged that I would never kill a civilian and now look at me. If you had come any closer… I would have…”

The cloth rustled near him and he swallowed, stealing a glance at her.

She was offering him a shawl, the very same one he had seen her embroidering at night.

_But, but… why?_

Yet, she was looking at him seriously, her eyes softening just a shade. Her ki wasn’t quite as cold, either. Utterly perplexed, Kenshin leaned back on his haunches and accepted the offering, stroking the soft fabric.

“Let me stay here for a while,” she whispered softly, almost too quiet to hear. “You need a sheath to hold back your madness.”

_A sheath?_

_Madness?_

_She is… offering to stay with me_? Kenshin blinked, his mouth falling open. He had been so alone, for so long… just like her, and now she was saying she _wanted_ to be with him?

He gripped the cloth in his hands, inhaling raggedly. To not be alone, the very thought felt so enormous that there were no words to describe it. To have someone with him, so that neither of them would have to be alone in the crowd… oh god, how wonderful it sounded.

He stared at his hands, trying not to cry.

Yet, her earlier question, the one that had been haunting his thoughts and nightmares… Kenshin swallowed, once, twice, before saying quietly, “I have thought about my answer, whether I would have killed you, if you had had a sword. The answer is no. I wouldn’t kill you. Whatever happened, I could never do that to you. Not to you. Never.”

Silence landed between them.

It took a while before Kenshin dared a shy look up between his lashes, but when he did… he saw a faint blush on her cheeks.

_…She is so beautiful._

The sight made his heart skip a beat, forcing him to look aside awkwardly as he climbed to his feet. As he helped her up, too, he was beginning to realize just how much she had offered him, and what it could mean for both of them.

It wasn’t just him that wouldn’t be alone.

This was for them both. Neither of them needed to be alone anymore, and even more than that, now they could have confidant in each other.

 

* * *

 

After that, they took to spending more time together.

When she finished her work, Tomoe would retire to their room, and instead of avoiding her, he would sit with her. They didn’t talk, not really. Neither of them were all that good at it, but just spending time in each other’s presence felt wonderful. With just the two of them, no one would stare at them or make mean-spirited comments. No, in those moments they were just two people sharing each other’s company – nothing more, nothing less.

And the next day, when Kenshin went to the backyard to do his katas, she followed him there as well.

It was bit strange, because in general he disliked having an audience. It always felt awkward and uncomfortable when someone saw his swordsmanship and wondered at the skill and precision that had been instilled in his movements since early childhood. Yet, somehow, it was different with her. She watched him carefully, as he went through the meditative repetitions, until finally she took out her book and started reading.

Kenshin finished his training about an hour later, feeling as close to calm and relaxed as he could.

She closed her book and tucked it in between her kimono folds. “It’s like watching a dance with swords.”

Instantly, heat rose to his cheeks and Kenshin looked aside. All of a sudden there were butterflies in his stomach and his heart was still beating fast, not easing down as it should have after his cooling exercises.  

No one had ever said anything kind about his swordsmanship. The katas and the practice had always been for a purpose, to learn how to kill… or they should have been. At least, Master had been adamant about that. But for Kenshin, it was so much more than that – he loved the art of the sword.

He had always loved it.

Sure, it had been a way to get stronger and to protect people, but the reason why he had kept practicing for hours, even when it wasn’t even remotely necessary, was because he liked doing the katas. They were calming and it was like, when he held a sword, he didn’t need to be his ugly, weird and scrawny self anymore. He could just be, just do something he enjoyed and take pride in.

Thankfully, Tomoe didn’t comment on his blush, simply turning around and returning to their room.

 _And it is_ our _room now, isn’t it?_

The thought left Kenshin feeling all funny inside, the good sort of funny – light and almost happy. After all, they lived there together and she had agreed to be with him and wasn’t it just wonderful?

Yet, the matter of his job still lay between them.

Understandably, Tomoe didn’t care for it at all. So whenever he got a black envelope, she would turn her head and pointedly ignore him. But afterwards, during the night, she would always wait for him, not saying a thing… merely being there for him, calm and comforting as she always was, no matter how long it took him to fall asleep.

Maybe, that’s why her presence had ceased to bother him to the point that he could catnap when she was there?

Iizuka-san walked in on them once, and seeing him sleeping in Tomoe’s presence, the man became far too curious for his own good.

Kenshin wasn’t quite sure why it was such a big deal.

After all, he had slept without problems in other people’s presences before. Well, admittedly it had been a while… err, actually, he hadn’t managed a single proper night’s sleep since he had left the mountain. So why could he sleep now, when he knew Tomoe was there, awake and so very close to him?

The realization hit him like a lightning bolt.

 _I_ trust _her_.

It was as simple as that.

Kenshin knew with bone deep certainty that she wasn’t a threat. No, her calmness, her ki… she was his safe spot. As long as she was there, the noises of men around them, their flickering, weak ki didn’t matter, not enough to keep him alert and waiting for attack.  

The realization made him think of her in an entirely different manner.

She didn’t seem quite as cold anymore, did she? Lately when she was with him, sometimes her ki would even feel slightly warm, like she, too, felt good. It seemed like in her eyes, he wasn’t that bad, no matter how stained and broken he was.

Not that she would smile or outwardly show it in anyway, of course. She was just as reserved as she had always been, but sometimes her eyes… it felt like they would soften, just a bit.

A few days later, on the evening of the fift day of the sixth month, she managed to surprise him once again. It was the Gion festival, the day of a grand parade within the Capital’s month long summer festival and practically everyone in the inn had the night off.

The city was packed full of people for the celebrations and the situation was deemed too hot for jobs. Not to mention, there seemed to be problems among the Ishin Shishi leadership that were keeping Katsura-san busy.

Kenshin wasn’t entirely sure what to do with all his free time. The festival had made the city more crowded and noisier than ever before. To be honest, he was hoping to spend a quiet night at the inn with Tomoe, now that most of the people had left for the festival.

Besides, Tomoe should be getting off work soon, shouldn’t she?

She was sweeping the floors on the abandoned second floor when he found her. However, instead of accepting his hesitant offer for them to get something to eat, she paused to look at him consideringly, before saying “Would you like to go out with me this evening?”

 _...Uh, what?_ Kenshin’s eyes widened in confusion.

 _She wants to go out_ there _...with me? Why?_

“It’s the festival tonight,” Tomoe explained softly. “It might be nice to have a relaxing night in the city… but it’s not relaxing to be a woman alone in a city full of men.”

 _Oh..._ Kenshin paused, mollified by her words. But, but… the thing was that there were a _lot_ of people out there and they were loud, loud enough to be heard even here. To go out there, it was… errr…

She tilted her head, looking at him kindly, waiting.

Kenshin took a deep breath, considering. Would it be that horrible?

Sure, it would be crowded out there, but none of those people would have any reason to stare at them with disdain or fear, not when there were actors and the festival train and everything. And it might be nice to go out there, to see things… whatever the festival had to offer, they could enjoy it together.

So yes, it could be nice.

Nodding slightly, Kenshin exhaled and met her gaze. “Yes, let’s go.“

“Yes.” She agreed quietly, her eyes becoming just a shade softer.

Like Kenshin had feared, the festival had drawn a huge crowd of people to the streets to celebrate, and everyone seemed to be wearing their best and brightest clothing. For commoners, the merchants and artisans, this seemed to be a chance to display their wealth. Young women consciously wore their most beautiful and colorful long-sleeved furisodes, hiding their smiles behind their fans. The older women’s choices were more reserved, but just as fine. Likewise, the men wore their finery with pride.

In truth, it left Kenshin feeling a bit shabby in comparison. The everyday clothes Taro-kun had chosen for him in Hagi had served him well this past year. Sure, the fabric was worn with use and there had been a few accidents along the way… but he had just hemmed the edges and patched the worst of the tears on his own.

Tomoe seemed to have similar problems, now that he considered it. Her clothing had been very fine once, but now they were comfortably worn and frayed in places. Not that it was her fault in any way; she didn’t have other options and she didn’t have enough savings to consider buying replacements.

Kenshin’s case wasn’t quite the same. The truth was that he simply wasn’t used to actually having money to spare. All his life, he had worn his clothing to the breaking point, and as long as he stayed warm and covered, it was all fine, wasn’t it?

But now, seeing all these people in their finery, it made him wonder… what would it be like, to be one of them? To dress to impress his company, just like the other young men enjoying the festival?

Not that he could, no matter if he wanted to. He was too ugly and strange, and there was his duty… and Tomoe, she wasn’t quite like the other girls, either.

Kenshin sighed, letting his hand rest on his sword for comfort. Yet, when there were so many people all around him, most of the men carrying swords just like him… it was difficult. With the situation as it was, the Capital was dangerously unstable and a single man’s stupidity within a crowd could lead to catastrophe.   

They circled the various vendors, food stalls, and games in silence.

Tomoe seemed to take it all very calmly, simply observing the sights and taking it all in stride. Kenshin, though, was beginning to feel really uncomfortable. He would have preferred to watch the festival from the sidelines. Not from the very center of it, forced to endure people pushing against them, trying to pass them on the way to see whatever they were interested in.

Without even noticing it, Kenshin had started to sweat, his breath had grown harsher. How long did they have to stay here? Surely she had already seen whatever she wanted to see?

Tomoe glanced at him, like she had done throughout the evening, and frowned, before grabbing his sleeve without warning and starting to lead him through the crowd. She didn’t even try to talk, to offer any explanations over the noise of the crowd.

It was only when they reached the edge of the street that she let go of his hand. For some reason, Kenshin couldn’t help feeling disappointed by it. He hadn’t ever seen her act so forcefully… and besides, it had been nice to be led.

Still too overwhelmed for words, Kenshin shot her a smile in thanks.

Her eyes widened, before softening a shade. She nodded, just once, but it was enough. She looked around and motioned to a bar, a bit further down a side-street, “Let’s go have a drink.”

The chance to sit down in a quiet place seemed like a godsend and Kenshin nodded gratefully.

The establishment she had chosen was one of the better bars, certainly a step up from the shabby jaunts he had frequented before – at least, judging by the location and clientele. Yet, even on a night like this, there were a few empty tables. Perhaps all the people were out enjoying the festival stalls?

They settled at a table near the window. It was a good spot, making it easy to observe what was happening around them, yet quiet enough that they weren’t disturbed.

However, while Kenshin didn’t exactly mind drinking sake, what was he supposed to do now that she was here with him? Usually he just ordered whatever was cheapest and drunk it as quickly as he could, to get the numbness he sought.

The barman quickly brought out their drinks. His was warmed as was customary, but she had ordered hers _chilled_.

It was a strange choice, quite a bit fancier than his. After all, ice was expensive in the middle of summer.

Yet, would it affect the taste?

Kenshin frowned, almost on the verge of ordering another bottle for himself just out of sheer curiosity. However, he already had perfectly good sake in front of him and he didn’t have that much money saved, not enough to waste it on a _whim_.

Sighing, he took the cup she had poured for him, readying himself for an unpleasant ordeal. After all, though everything he ate or drank tasted like blood, the first few cups of sake had always been the worst. But this time, a rich, deep, even a little sweet aroma flooded onto his tongue.

 _What..? But why would it…_ Kenshin gaped, staring at his saucer.

Tomoe noticed his confusion. “What is is?”

“I, ah…” Kenshin paused, trying to find words for his surprise. “It’s been a long time. The sake tastes good to me.”

“It’s because of the festival,” she suggested, and offered to pour him more.

Mutely, Kenshin accepted and sipped it again. The aromas were strong, yet not unpleasant in the least. Why? He doubted it was because of the festival, given how little he had cared for the experience, but perhaps… it could be because of her, because he was not alone.

“I’m different.” Tomoe frowned at her saucer, musing, “Lately I haven’t been able to enjoy sake as much as I used to.”

 _Oh…_ Kenshin hesitated. If there was truth in Master’s words about sake, then she too had something sick in her, pain or worry that had turned her mood to melancholy. However, if killing left his sake tasting like blood, would it help to know what her drink tasted like?

Perhaps, the knowledge could give him a clue about how to help her? Kenshin hesitated, “It doesn’t taste good to you?”

“No.” Tomoe glanced at him. “I feel like I don’t want to depend on it anymore.”

Kenshin looked aside awkwardly, feeling slightly foolish for his assumption.

Silence fell between them, but unlike usual, it wasn’t comfortable. This was far from the calm silence where neither of them felt like talking. Instead, the feeling was almost oppressive, a dullness he should try to interrupt by saying something smart and witty to uplift her mood.

But what could he say? What topic was safe enough to broach?

The past?

But given what he knew, her past must have been a painful one, and his… why would she even care what he had done before he had ended up here?

Should he try to talk about his work? About the Ishin Shishi? That was an even worse idea. She had made it blatantly clear how little she liked his work. How about swordsmanship? But that couldn’t hold any interest to fine lady like her. About his daily routine at the inn?

But was there anything worthy of conversation in that? Usually all he did was avoid people and sleep!

“When I look at your scar…” Her calm voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “I wonder what the men see in their final moments.”

Kenshin swallowed dryly, suddenly wishing he had chosen the topic first. Any of his terrible ideas would have been better than the topic of his damn scar! Yet, he couldn’t exactly ignore her words either.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, Kenshin had tried his best to forget the angry red line on his cheek and the fight where he had gotten it. Not because of the scar itself, but because that night had been one of his greatest failures. From start to end, he had screwed up, and because of him, that young Mimawarigumi guard had suffered and died a slow, painful death, gurgling for air while his guts had sprawled out of his gaping side.

Severing his neck had been the only thing Kenshin had been able to do for him afterwards, but even that hadn’t changed a thing. Now that shame was his alone to carry, as no one else even remembered him. Kenshin sighed mournfully, before lifting his eyes to meet hers.

She looked sad and miserable.

“You say you kill to make others happy…but I don’t think it makes you happy.”

“It doesn’t.” Kenshin answered. “I hate it… I hate that it’s necessary.” However, before he could continue, he noticed a remarkably familiar flicker of ki approaching them with speed. It felt weak and wavering…

_Oh, but why would he..._

Then Iizuka-san burst into the bar and shouted at them, “Get out of here immediately!”

“What’s wrong?” Kenshin grabbed his sword in alarm. Anything that got Iizuka-san so harried would be bad news.

“Come with me, I will tell you on the way!”

Then there was no time to think. Kenshin grabbed Tomoe’s hand and rushed to follow Iizuka-san through the crowd.  

“Katsura-san is in grave danger.” Iizuka-san explain in a hurried whisper, not slowing down for even a moment. “The Shinsengumi found out about the meeting with Miyabe and Toshimaru. I need to rally the men and get there right away!”

“Where is it being held?” Kenshin demanded. After all, the Ishin Shishi leaders’ meeting had changed locations multiple times after Furutaka’s capture, and now no one but the higher ups knew in which Ishin Shishi safe-house it was being held.

“Sanjo Kawaramachi, at the Ikeda-ya!” Iizuka-san shouted, giving a pointed look to the struggling Tomoe on Kenshin’s arm, before he took off running.

The hint was obvious.

“You should head back to the inn,” Kenshin said seriously. “I need to go. If Katsura-san is in danger, everything could fail tonight.”

However, Tomoe insisted firmly, “I will follow you.”

It was the worst possible idea she could have, but he didn’t have time to argue. Not when Katsura-san was in trouble. Kenshin grabbed her hand and ran.

While he would have been far faster on his own, there was no way he could leave her alone. Besides, Kawaramachi was not that far from Gion, only about a mile or so.

She kept pace with him admirably, and as they got closer to the meeting spot, Kenshin slowed down to a walk, trying to get a good read on the ki presences nearby.

 _The Ikeda-ya should be close by now…_ Kenshin frowned, cutting through a smaller, darker side alley. Just around the corner, a group of hurried presences were nearing them. At his side, Tomoe was a white shadow, silent and grim. Yet, it wasn’t _safe_. She really should hide, or run – she should be anywhere but here.  

“There are people ahead.” Kenshin whispered. “You really should turn back now, it’s dangerous.”

She tightened her grip on his hand and her eyes narrowed. Her usually soft and demure voice gained a steely edge of determination, as she said, “I want to see. I want to see your work. I want to see it with my own eyes.”

“Stop, whoever you are!” a shout rang out. “Stop in the name of the Shinsengumi!”

 _Damn it, damn it all to hell._ Kenshin cursed silently, his hand ready at his sword as he turned around to see a group of six men running towards them, their damn mountain-striped haori flashing in the moonlight.

Then it was too late to run away.

“There he is!”

“That must be the assassin!”

 _Oh god, they know about me?_ _They have been looking for me?_ Kenshin gaped in sheer panic for a second. Then, reason won out over fear and he drew his sword, ready to protect the mulishly stubborn, innocent girl behind him.

The first target charged, his sword held high just like most of the Shinsengumi were prone to. Kenshin dodged under it and slashed the man’s stomach. But, his strike didn’t... cut?

 _Chain vests!_ Kenshin growled, “You are in my way, back down!”

The six of them were effectively blocking the street. There was no way he could avoid killing these men, not when Tomoe was right behind him and they posed a tangible threat to _her_.

“I am Shigesuke Heima, trained in Hokushin Ittou-ryu!” the first one shouted proudly, charging at him again.

“I don’t care!” Kenshin snarled, and concentrated, letting Kenta to flow to his side. The world slowed to a halt, the group of six samurai charging at him becoming nothing but obstacles in his way.

Those damn chain vest wouldn’t protect them, not with Kenta at his side. But concentrating that much ki to his blade would slow him down. No, in a tight place like this it was far more effective to use piercing strikes, or to attack a vulnerable, unprotected spot: the throat.

Kenshin sprinted, blurring into motion.

The first man was fast enough to block, which in that narrow alley, made the man behind him the more vulnerable one. Kenshin dodged around the first one’s attack and slashed open the second’s throat. The third one was too slow: he died from a stab to the back. The fourth had enough time to attempt a strike of his own, to no avail – Kenshin parried his feeble attack and slashed his throat, too.

The fifth was wide open, too shocked to react. He died from a stab to the heart, the easiest death of them all.

The last one, the one he had passed over, screamed with rage then charged at his back. It was too bad that his shout destroyed his chances. The man dropped to the ground, still twitching as his heart pumped his lifeblood out of the gaping wound in his throat.

Then there was only silence.

Kenshin took a deep breath, before letting go of Kenta. The cool numbness faded along with the screams, and the smell of blood flooded his nostrils, the shame and disgust brought by the killing storming inside him.

Footsteps echoed behind him. It was Tomoe. She was walking towards him calmly, her expression still like a mask, her ki freezing cold as she stepped over the six dead Shinsengumi at her feet.

Kenshin looked away, gritting his teeth. He knew he should have offered words of comfort to her, tried to explain it in some way… but he didn’t have time. These Shinsegumi had known about him, so they had found out about the meeting for sure and that meant Katsura-san could already be in their hands.

Sparing her an apologetic glance, Kenshin rushed forward, reaching the main street and stalking in the shadows as close to the Ikeda-ya as he dared. The inn was all but swarming with blue haori coats, the mountain stripes flashing boldly in the lantern light as men came to report to the captain in the yard.

Kenshin concentrated, trying to gather his ki to listen in on their conversation… only to notice feminine footsteps getting closer. Tomoe had followed him. Of course she had. Kenshin frowned at her, holding a finger in front of his mouth, signaling silence.

Then, he closed his eyes and drew a drop of ki to his ears.

Tomoe’s deep steady breathing next to him, hurried footsteps, chain vests clattering and then, “Did you find Katsura?”

“I don’t know.”

“The assassin isn’t here, though.”

Kenshin sighed softly in relief, letting go of the hearing trick. If they hadn’t found Katsura-san yet, then not all was lost. Should he still charge in there?

There were a lot of Shinsengumi in the yard. Judging by the flickering ki presences, there had to at least twenty or more men on the premises. More, they knew about him, they had clearly been hunting for him… and they were wearing those chain vests. Should he risk it?

Kenshin gripped his sword tightly. _But if there is even the slightest possibility that Katsura-san is there, do I have a choice?_

He was just about to lean past the corner for a look, when he felt a hand grip his arm tightly. He shot Tomoe a questioning glance.

She shook her head.

Frowning, Kenshin pursed his lips and then applied another droplet of ki to his ears.

“Saito-san! Katsura isn’t here! Miyabe committed a suicide in the rear vestibule.”

“I see. Good work everyone.”

Kenshin let go of the ki on the spot and leaned his head against the wall, his feet feeling slightly shaky in relief. Thank god... if it was just Miyabe, then this was not the end.

Tomoe was looking at him, her eyes a bit softer.

Kenshin gave her a nod in thanks, a poor repayment of his gratitude. After all, if not for her, he would have gone out there for nothing.

Still, there was something strange out there. A ki presence that didn’t feel right and Kenshin risked one more glance around the corner. The commander that the Shinsengumi were reporting to, that tall man who was as lean as a starved wolf… there was something wrong about him. His ki was frosty as ice, serious and uncompromising. A notably large presence too, defined and controlled unlike the rest of those flickers…

_Uh oh.._

Kenshin blinked slowly, utterly floored by the realization. That presence wasn’t just a strange anomaly, it was _trained._

And that meant, the man could most likely sense him too.

_Shit!_

There was no thought involved – it was a reflex Master had worked hard to instill in him – Kenshin closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, in and out, in and out.

_I am not a threat. I am not here. I am nothing but one among others._

Slowly, painstakingly slowly, he tried to spread his ki, to make it so thin that it became nothing more than a shadow in the background.

_There._

His presence was still there, able to be felt but just barely. Now, he simply seemed as harmful as a mouse or a girl who had never seen a weapon.

After all, like Master had said to him all those years ago, for those that can sense ki, large presences shone like shooting stars among the rest. However, empty spots that people gave way to were even easier to notice. No, when it came to ki, it was the small ones that were the easiest to overlook.

Even if that Shinsengumi captain was trained in ki and had caught Kenshin masking his, he would never be able to track him in a crowd. And conveniently, there happened to be a festival close by.

Kenshin smiled grimly and took Tomoe’s hand.

Together, they sneaked back, sticking to the shadows, quiet as a pair of mice hiding from a wolf.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: There is historical incorrectness in this and the following chapter. This is because, first and foremost, I am trying to stay faithful to the canon and unfortunately, like my betareader Animaniacal-laughter pointed out to me, occasionally canon and history don't exactly match.
> 
> However, for those who are curious about the history,  Furutaka Shuntarou was captured by Shinsengumi on a raid to his store Masu'ya, in the early dawn of June 5th, 1864. (Furutaka had inherited it two years prior and operated it under the alias "Kièmon". It was his cover because officially Choshuu samurai had been banished from Kyoto). Anyways, Shinsengumi had been looking for Miyabe and ended up capturing Furutaka by chance. He was then tortured until Shinsengumi found out about the Ikedaya-ya's meeting.  
> 
> At the evening of June 5th, Shinsengumi gathered their men and raided Ikeda-ya.
> 
> There was no "x number of days / weeks" time period between these events, not like the Ruroken manga suggests. 
> 
> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 11.03.2016.


	9. Flames of War

# Chapter 22. Flames of War

 

They came across Katsura-san and Katagai at the inn, and Kenshin wasn’t sure if he had ever felt so relieved. No matter what he had overheard from the Shinsengumi at the Ikeda-ya, there had been a persistent fear in his heart, spurring his mind towards the worst case scenarios.

However, to his surprise, Katsura-san had never made it to the meeting in the first place.

The leader of the Choshuu Ishin Shishi and Katagai-san had been running late on another errand. It was only by chance that they had spotted the Shinsengumi gathering for the raid and made their escape without being noticed.

“Kenshin, if the Shinsengumi are hunting for you and me specifically, it’s extremely important that we lay low,” Katsura-san said, a strained frown on his brow. “Stay here at the inn and don’t attract any attention. If the safety of this inn becomes compromised, I will see about moving you to another location. You are too important to lose.”

The words felt like a strike across his face, and Kenshin scowled. Confined to the inn, he would be useless to the rebels! He was a fighter, not someone who cowered in fear. He could do something, help out in some way!

However, the protest died on his lips as Katsura-san gave him a look. “It’s total chaos out there. The notorious Wolves of Mibu outright attacking a meeting of high-ranking provincial officials? This will raise hell, and not just in the Capital. The provinces will be screaming for blood. There are already messages going back and forth. I’ll have to leave now and try to salvage what I can from this mess.”

Without a further word, Katsura-san motioned to his bodyguard, Katagai-san, and slipped down a backstreet, disappearing into the shadows of night.

Kenshin watched them go.

If Katsura-san was that worried, so on edge… things were very bad, weren’t they?

 

* * *

 

As it turned out, the Ikeda-ya incident was a disaster for the Ishin Shishi.

The very next day, they learned that the Shinsengumi had killed 8 and arrested 23 of the men who had been at the meeting. Worse, most of the rebel leaders and trusted councilmen had been among them. Miyabe’s death, especially, was creating problems. He had been the unifying force for those willing to use extreme measures, and with him gone, there seemed to be a growing consensus supporting his ideas.

Kenshin even heard  a rumor that the reason the Shinsengumi had chosen to risk attacking a prominent meeting was because they had heard of a plan to burn down Kyoto.

It seemed too outlandish, too unbelievable to be true. Who would plan to burn down the capital? The very thought was horrifying. Yet, Iizuka-san had seemed grim and hadn’t denied the rumor when asked about it.

Kenshin didn’t know what to think. Of course such a plan should be stopped, but at the same time… What would it mean going forward, that the Shinsengumi could attack a meeting between high ranking samurai and politicians, slaughtering those who resisted and capturing the rest?

One thing was sure: everyone who favored the rebel movement was enraged by the raid. Yet, that rage was tainted by fear. In one decisive strike, the Shinsengumi had proven they were a force to be reckoned with and a true threat to the rebels.

Unfortunately, the situation had driven most of the rebels into hiding, which meant that there was nothing for Kenshin to do. No jobs, no guarding... nothing at all.

It wasn’t easy to be so alert, but unable to make a difference.

Perhaps it was unavoidable that Kenshin found himself rebelling against Katsura-san’s wisdom. He acquired a hat to cover his eye-catching hair, and took to wandering through town, listening to the rumors.

It had been some time since he had bothered to keep up with the talk in the town. After all, since Hitokiri Battousai’s terrifying deeds had become the constant topic on people’s lips, there had been little joy in listening. Yet the Shinsengumi’s success had changed everything in one night, from the topics to the tone of people’s rumor mongering.

Who cared to focus on one measly assassin?

No matter how mysterious or fearsome, even Hitokiri Battousai had become old news by this point. No, the Wolves of Mibu were a far better subject. However, unlike before, when people had always had something ill to say about the Shinsengumi, now those sneers were accompanied with real respect and fear.

The same could be seen at the inn. The threat the Shinsengumi poised had absolutely everyone on edge. The Choshuu men were tense and Iizuka-san was constantly running between safe-houses and meeting spots, trying to calm everyone down. Even Okami-san and her employees were stressed.

Something was going to happen, and soon.

Everybody knew it.

The stress and worry made it impossible for Kenshin to relax. Yet, for all the visits to town he risked and the hours he spent in the backyard repeating his kata, his restlessness was growing, becoming harder to contain.

The feeling was getting worse by the day.

It was getting to the point that Kenshin wished for a job. Or something, anything useful for him to do. This waiting, listening to whispers and tales that grew wilder by the day… His restlessness was feeling less and less like an itch, an annoying but necessary evil. No, it was like the walls were closing in, trapping them from all sides.

Kenshin had absolutely no idea how to relieve the stress.

He tried all his usual tricks. He had even ignored his embarrassment and had taken to spinning Kasumi’s top in Tomoe’s presence – to no avail.

Nothing worked.

Through it all, Tomoe was a quiet shadow by his side. Whenever she was not working, she was with him, and her calming presence was the only reason why he hadn’t done anything stupid, like get into a fight. A few men residing in the inn had managed to do that just last night; they had gotten back late, drunk and covered in darkening bruises.

Now, Kenshin was again playing with his top, sitting in his corner, leaning his back against the book stack. It was just an evening like all the others. The restlessness was crawling just under his skin and the sweltering, humid heat of the summer evening was making it impossible to even think of training till exhaustion. Tomoe sat with him in silence, embroidering delicate patterns into her shawl in the candlelight.

It was getting late.

“Why the top?”

Her soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts and Kenshin blinked, completely surprised by her interest.  

Tomoe had set down her shawl and was looking at him strangely, her head tilted in curiosity.  

“Uh…” Kenshin started. What should he say to her? “Well, it was a gift. A woman named Kasumi gave it to me when I was a child.”

“So it’s a memento?”

“Err… yes,” he stammered, looking aside awkwardly. When the top toppled over, he took it in his hands again and tied the yarn around the knob methodically, setting it to spin.

Shyly, he stole a glance at her between his lashes. _What is she thinking?_

He wasn’t sure why, but her eyes looked almost soft, not quite as unreadable as before. Her ki was the same, though the feel of her coldness had melted, the biting edge tempered down to a quiet warmth.

“What does it remind you of?”

Kenshin frowned in thought, not quite sure how to answer.

The top was a real, tangible connection to the past from before the sword and the duties of Hiten Mitsurugi. It reminded him of a time when he had been loved and was taken in by a kind woman, how she had sacrificed her life just so that he could live... when he, too, had been a slave, just like Kasumi, and how the Bakufu’s laws and government hadn’t been there to protect them.

_What can I tell her?_

The top meant so much to him. It was just an old toy and yet, it had become a reminder of…

“Why I need to fight.” Kenshin finally resolved. “The top reminds me why I need to protect people.”

Tomoe nodded gravely, “I see.”

And right then, he couldn’t help noticing she looked sad, like she had remembered something better left unsaid as well.

Silence fell between them.

He didn’t know what to say to her, so after a moment, Kenshin continued to spin his top and she returned to her embroidery. Every now and then, he would glance at her from the corner of his eye and wonder what was left unsaid between them.

Was she thinking of what she had lost? How little she had now? Or was her morose mood because of how small their world had dwindled in these past few weeks of living in seclusion, trying not to be noticed while the city shimmered with rage and fear and rumors.

Kenshin was beginning to understand that they really were alike. Both of them were alone, sad… trying to get by. But unlike him, she didn’t have a sense of purpose, conviction to fight for a cause. She just _was._ She lived day by day, trying to survive.

And yet, she had asked to stay by his side.

 _What did she mean earlier, saying that she wanted to be a sheath for my madness?_ Kenshin frowned. True, he had been feeling better with her by his side. The blood still haunted him, but lately he hadn’t had so many nightmares and sake had even tasted good.

Maybe he had been going mad: all those sad thoughts, anger, desperation… restlessness.

_But what does it mean that I can’t relax now?_

Tomoe was right there. Her familiar ki felt just as nice as always. Listening to her steady breathing and to the soft repetitive noise of her needle and thread sliding through the fabric as she embroidered her shawl was just as calming as it had been since the first night they had shared this room.

It felt like a failure to not be able to calm down, to not be able to let go of this restlessness.

 _I really should try to get some sleep. It’s getting rather late anyway and it can’t be pleasant for her when I’m keyed up like this…_ Kenshin’s eyes widened in alarm at the thought. Was he disturbing her right now? Maybe the only reason why she hadn’t already gone to sleep was because she couldn’t, not when he was tense like this…

It made him feel like he was even more of a failure. The last thing on earth he wanted was to cause her distress! She already had so many difficulties, she was so sad and lonely. And now she had to put up with this, his madness?

Kenshin stared at his hands. They weren’t shaking, but his fingers tingled with the need to hold something solid. A sword?

_There are no threats in here! Even I know that!_

The top was on the floor, not spinning anymore.

_When did I let go of it?_

The nervous energy was pooling inside him, like a coiled beast wanting to move. Kenshin swallowed in shame, looking down at his hands, and he admitted in a low voice, “I can’t calm down. I try and try… but I _can't_.”

A cloth rustled as she put aside her embroidery. She was looking right at him, before she nodded decisively and said, “Please, allow me.”

 _What?_ Kenshin gulped.

She gracefully rose to her feet and walked over to him. Quietly, she knelt at his side, closer than ever before and reached into her sleeve pocket, taking something out. A comb?

_Oh..._

“When I was a child, my mother used to do this. It felt comforting,” she said softly, reaching for his hair and untying the leather cord around his ponytail.  

Kenshin froze and the tiny hairs at the back of his neck stood up. It was electrifying. The nerves in his neck and scalp tingled, shivers dancing on his skin at her touch. He was almost jumping out of his skin, the need to run, to shy away from her touch was so strong… and yet, this was Tomoe and he trusted her.

And if she wanted to do this, if she thought it would help? Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut and decided that he wouldn’t move. No matter what she decided to do, he wouldn’t move. If she wanted, he would allow her to do _anything_.

Her fingers combed slowly through his hair. Then she took the length of his long hair into her hand and began untangling the ends with her comb.

Kenshin had never been particularly meticulous about his hair. It grew freely and every now and then he worked through the worst of the tangles with his fingers. When it became too matted with grime he washed it with water, wrung it out, and let it dry. The approach had worked perfectly fine for him thus far.

Yet, when he finally dared to glance at her, she didn’t seem pleased. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration as she combed through the tangles, trying not to pull too hard.

“You should take better care of your hair. It’s a mess,” she said, letting go of the length of his hair and running her comb through it freely. Untied and untangled like that, he could feel the weight of his hair all the way to his lower back.

 _Huh…_ Kenshin blinked. He hadn’t even noticed it getting that long.

When he was young, he had kept his hair shorter because it had been a pain during training. Not only had it tangled easily, catching things like leaves, twigs, and nettles during spars in the forests, but Master hadn’t been shy about grabbing it. After all, long hair was a weakness to exploit for those without honor, and for a student of Hiten Mitsurugi, it would be unimaginable to fall to such an easy tactic.

Master had kept his hair long with pride. For a swordsman of his caliber, long hair wasn’t a weakness – after all, no one could get close enough to use it against him.

Now, in Kyoto, the same could be said for Kenshin. He hadn’t thought of his hair, because it hadn’t been a problem. It was a strange thing to realize. Not one of his targets had given him any more trouble that the bandits had given Master.

Tomoe kept working through his hair with steady motions, all the way from his scalp to the ends. The comb didn’t get stuck anymore. Instead, it was just a gentle pulling.

It felt almost relaxing.

And Tomoe’s ki was becoming warmer?

“I have always wanted to do this, to brush someone’s hair,” she remarked softly behind him.

“Why didn’t you?” Kenshin found himself asking. Not out of need to know, but mere curiosity.

“My mother died when I was young and after that… there was no one. I had a few acquaintances, but no real female friends.”

“Oh…” No wonder she often seemed sad and lonely. Attempting to distract her a bit from her memories, Kenshin volunteered, “I didn’t have any friends either. I spend most of my childhood training in swordsmanship.”

“Ah,” she said, her ki turning a shade frostier.

Well, that was smooth of him. Kenshin cringed. A good distraction, truly. How was she supposed to forget her past and worries when he shoved the fact that he was a killer in her face?

Kenshin sighed, shame churning in his gut. Why was he such a failure? He was always pushing the situation from bad to worse with his ineptitude. He liked Tomoe. A lot. She was kind and calm, beautiful… and she could stand him.

She was even brushing his hair to help him calm down!

But all he could do for her was remind her of the horrors she had suffered and make situations awkward. He wasn’t good at talking to people. He truly, truly wasn’t. But…

“You are so young.” She interrupted his fretting thoughts. “I can’t see how you can stand to fight in this horrible shadow war.”

“I’m not that young!” Kenshin denied immediately. He wasn’t, not like that. He hated when people kept saying he was a kid. Just because he happened to be somewhat short...

“Oh?”

“Errr...” Kenshin hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Uh, well... I think I’m fifteen.”

“You think?” she asked, disbelief in her tone.

 _Well, put like that… I guess it sounded pretty stupid._ Kenshin straightened, feeling the heat on his cheeks. “I think I was born in summer, but I can’t remember for sure.” Then he frowned, struck by an idle thought. Because he, too, had been wondering, “How old are you?”

She paused her motions, her ki shifting warmer again. “I’m eighteen.”

For some reason that tidbit felt really good. She wasn’t _that_ much older than him. In the eyes of society, neither of them were kids… They were old enough to do what they wanted.

“There, all done,” she said, running her comb through his hair a final time and then gathering it into her grip, tying up his topknot like it had been.

Kenshin was a bit disappointed that it was over. It had really felt quite nice. The restlessness had abated like it had never even been there, leaving behind calmness. Feeling like this, sleep would come easily. He turned around and smiled. “Thank you.”

A faint pink blush rose to her cheeks in return.

 

* * *

 

At the beginning of August all the men residing in the inn were called to attend a meeting in the common dining room. Standing in front of them were Iizuka-san… and Katsura-san with his bodyguard Katagai-san? All three of them looked grim, but the worst looking of them was Katsura-san. The leader of Choshuu Ishin Shishi had dark lines under his eyes and he was tense, every inch of him screaming of bone-deep exhaustion.

Everyone present seemed to notice it with alarm.

Kenshin found his place next to the wall, on the sidelines. As usual, an empty space was created around him as no one seemed to be willing to stay in his vicinity.

“There has been call to arms,” Katsura-san began gravely. “Choshuu is marching to the capital. As of now, just over two thousand men are gathering outside of Kyoto, to the south and southwest. If the Choshuu clan’s demands aren’t heard and the Ikeda-ya slaughter isn’t investigated, they have decided to attempt to move the Emperor to Hagi and reinstate the government there.”

A stunned silence landed on the room. It was so thick, heavy with tension, that one could have cut through it with a knife.

Kenshin didn’t know how to react to the news, either. It was staggering. A war? Now?

Already?

The Bakufu was strong. There were more samurai in the city than ever before. Thanks to the Shinsengumi’s gambit at the Ikeda-ya, there was talk among the townsfolk that the Bakufu was finally getting its act together, that the rebels’ daring acts were just cruel murders without purpose…

And taking the Emperor to Hagi?

What on earth?

“The Bakufu outnumber us heavily.” Katsura-san’s strict voice cut through the silence. “As of now, there are over fifty thousand samurai in the city, both provincial troops and policing forces. However, it’s impossible to know for sure how many provinces will lend their strength to the Bakufu. We have managed to diminish their base of support with our strikes. Yet, make no mistake: this will be a bloodbath.”

Katsura-san paused and turned to look at them, like he was talking to each of them separately. “I am not going to support this madness. I hope that you won’t either. However, you have the right to decide for yourselves. The Bakufu has given Choshuu until the 19th to withdraw… The attack will come before that.”

Silence.

Kenshin swallowed. A war. It sounded like madness, but could it work? If it was done right, could two thousand men attack the Imperial palace and take the Emperor? Maybe, if the Bakufu was disorganized, if there was no coordination between their forces…

The Bakufu had lot of men, true.

But they weren’t a single unified army, not in the least. Worse, unlike the Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi who had fighting experience from their clashes with the rebels, most of the countryside troops were fighters in name only. The long peace of the Tokugawa reign had robbed them of their will and means to make war. Most of them were men who had gotten used to their comfortable duties and stable stipends.

Only the largest provinces had the need to keep a meaningful number of their samurai fit and trained.

So the real question was, which of the large provinces would support the Bakufu? Aizu for sure; the province had over five thousand samurai and they had been supporting the Bakufu for ages. Another sure bet was Satsuma. They had always done some manner of trade with foreigners, officially sanctioned or not, which put them at odds with Choshuu’s call to expel the barbarians. Not to mention Satsuma had an old _grudge_ – to put it mildly – with Choshuu.

With those two provinces alone, the Bakufu would have nearly ten thousand men near Kyoto, Kenshin realized with a frown.

Three to one odds, even in the very _best_ case scenario.

The distance from Kyoto to Choshuu was over 340 miles.

At worst, Choshuu wouldn’t raise any support and they would have to fight all of those fifty thousand men while retreating south through several provinces.

Who could say if any of those provinces would grant them safe passage? If those provinces saw an opportunity, what would keep them from turning against Choshuu? Mito, Owari, Kii, Kuwaga, Hikone… oh god, the list was endless.

Kenshin drew a tense breath, his stomach dropping. It was hopeless. It would never work, not like this. There were simply too many against them, too many who would benefit from Choshuu’s misfortune.

There was a murmur going through the crowd as people conversed. Katsura-san sat silently before them, available for their questions, but allowing the men to decide where they stood on their own.

Then one of the samurai stood up proudly. “If Choshuu calls… I’ll answer. It might be a tough battle, but I am not a coward.”

That single opinion was all it took to break the dam and people rose to their feet, some shouting their agreement and others their displeasure. Accusations of madness rang out, followed by claims that anyone who would abandon Choshuu was a coward. That Katsura-san, too, had shamed them all with his words.

It was a pure chaos all around him.

Then, Katsura-san rose up and raised his hand… and people fell silent. The leader of the Choshuu Ishin Shishi nodded at them and turned his back, walking out the door.

The shouting started again.

Kenshin didn’t know what to do. Yet, while he was as torn by the situation as everyone else, he definitely didn’t want to stay in this chaos. Silent as a cat, he slipped out of the room.

Concentrating slightly, he searched for Katsura-san’s steady ki and rushed to follow it. He just needed to ask for advice. Even if it was a hopeless fight, he wouldn’t abandon the cause, not without a damn good reason.

He reached them just as Katsura-san and Katagai-san were heading out. Katagai-san nodded at him. However, Katsura-san didn’t even turn around as he said, “Kenshin, if you decide to join the war – I understand.”

 _Is Katsura-san doubting me, my loyalty?_ Kenshin frowned, “It’s a hopeless fight… and I follow you.”

Katsura-san exhaled slowly, and turned to look at him, his eyes hard and serious. “Then stay here and protect the people. The Imperial palace is just few miles from here. The fighting might spread out and the city is filled with people because of the festival season.”

Kenshin’s eyes widened in shock and he didn’t even recognize his own voice as he whispered, “Can it be stopped?”

“No. Not anymore,” Katsura-san said quietly, and left.

Kenshin was left standing there, for the first time realizing the sheer magnitude of the approaching horror.

War was coming.

 

* * *

 

It felt like he was sitting on a powder keg, knowing there was a war coming… and not being able to do anything about it.

If people knew about the attack, the Bakufu would gain even more supporters and then the rebel army would face impossible odds. No, they couldn’t even warn anyone, not without destroying the slight chance the rebels had of winning.

For Choshuu to have any chance of capturing the Emperor, they would need to mount a fast, surprise attack, so the Bakufu wouldn’t have the chance to gather their divided troops to respond.

However, knowing the truth didn’t make waiting any easier.

The Imperial palace was well within the city proper. There were literally thousands of people living nearby it, thousands of homes threatened by the attack. What would happen to them? Was the Bakufu doing anything for them? Did they even know enough to have a plan for evacuating the people? Surely they had heard of Choshuu’s threats, but was it enough?

It was killing Kenshin to not know, to have no chance of stopping it.

When the 19th came, Kenshin left the inn to wander the streets before sunrise. Only a few miles from the Imperial Palace, the early risers and merchants were trying to conduct their business normally. Yet, there was a tense anticipation in the air, spurred forth by the groups of many different provincial troops patrolling the streets on high alert.

Kenshin tried to avoid being seen. His hair covered with a hat, he stuck close to walls and shadows whenever patrols passed him. It was what everyone did, truth be told. The townsfolk might not have known what was going on, but no one wanted to risk annoying tense samurai with hair-trigger tempers.

After all, samurai had the right to kill if they felt insulted, so seeing all these armed men on the street would have made anyone wary.

Kenshin was heading back to the inn when cannon fire rang out in the distance, their roars descending like the wrath of gods. People turned to stare in shock, some screaming from fright… only to see their worst nightmare come to life.

There were flames and dark pillars of smoke rising on the horizon.

Someone had set the city on fire.

Panicked screams echoed all around him as people dashed southward down the street, away from the fire like a herd of lambs, and even Kenshin could feel panic stirring as reality struck. The city was filled with people. The wooden houses had dried in the summer heat like tinder and the wind was blowing south. It would spread the flames like wildfire… all the way to the old town, to the merchant’s quarters and narrowly built residential districts.

There was no stopping it, not fast enough.

_…Tomoe._

Kensin gasped raggedly.

He needed to get back, to get to Tomoe… to alert every remaining Choshuu man at the inn. They needed to get the people to safety right now.

He ran like he had never run before.

 

* * *

 

“Tomoe! You need to get away!” Kenshin screamed as he burst into the inn, seeing her sweeping the hallway.

She froze, her eyes widening in alarm. “What is it?”

“The city is on fire! Hurry!” Kenshin shouted, before dashing up the stairs, three steps at a time, darting into the men’s rooms, kicking and pulling them awake. Out of about twenty men who resided in the inn, half had left in the last week to join to the Choshuu men gathering outside the town. The few that were left were all lower-ranked men, ronin, or those who weren’t shy about their distaste for war.

When he had awoken everyone, Kenshin found himself surrounded by all the people in the inn: the men, Okami-san, and her two serving girls. A desperate need pushing him, he didn’t even  stop to hesitate speaking aloud, to explain them what he had seen: the Bakufu’s patrols heading to the Palace, the cannon shots, and the fire on the horizon.

“If we don’t do something, people will be trampled in the chaos. The wind is blowing south, spreading the fire fast. We need to help the people, direct them out of the harm’s way,” Kenshin was explaining hurriedly, when a samurai stormed into the inn.

It was Tanaka, one of the men who had left earlier to join the fight, and he was bloody, his eyes wild as he shouted, “They are going to make it! Choshuu is going to succeed! The fire is covering our retreat! Everybody, come! We need to help them out! The rebels will win this war!”

“Fuck the war!” Kenshin shouted, his ki lashing out with his emotions. Never before had he felt such anger at someone’s _stupidity_. Kenta joined his side, as he raised his voice, “Listen to me! Whether Choshuu wins or loses, it’s out of our hands. You have made your decision already. It’s the people, the ordinary townsfolk who need our help. We need to get them out of here and moving in the _right direction_!”

And somehow, everyone – even Tanaka – froze at his words, staring at him like they had never seen him before.

“Now focus! Kuwaba, run to Kawaramachi and alert the other Ishin Shishi who are abstaining from this war. Yoshiwaru, go and gather the firefighters! And the rest of you, get people moving to the east, to the mountains – not south where the fire is spreading! Okami-san, gather what you need and get out of here. The fire will be here soon!”

Everyone stared, their mouth gaping…

Kenshin shouted, “Move!”

And just like that, they _did_.

Only Tomoe stood there in the hallway, alone like a white ghost, her eyes open wide in shock. Then, she struggled to gather her resolve, clenched her fists tight and said evenly, “I will help Okami-san and the people here. Please, go help the others.”

It was then that Kenshin saw the core of her strength, her willingness to fight for what was right.

He didn’t argue, just nodded at her and left.

There were people who needed his help.

 

* * *

 

The smoke was heavy in the air as the streets teemed with a panicky herd of people heading south. Most had tried to grab whatever possessions they could, and some were trying to push through the crowd as fast as possible. The shouts and screams echoed all around them, the smallest voices lost in the noise. The crowd didn’t care who got left behind or trampled in the chaos; children, the infirm or the elderly.

Kenshin had never seen anything so terrifying.

The panic around him was a thousand time worse than the festival had been. The fear was suffocating. The shouts and screams and horrible crackle of fire getting closer melded together into almost indistinguishable wall of noise.

It was almost impossible to think.

What was worse was how people kept choosing the main roads, heading south… not realizing that they could never outrun the fire, not when the streets were packed full, becoming a bottleneck for the crowd.

Hopefully his warning had been enough. Hopefully the men of the Ishin Shishi could come together and make a difference, direct them to the east further down the road… because alone, Kenshin was too small, too weak to do it by himself.

The fire was getting closer.

Kenshin swallowed, and headed towards it, rushing to help the stragglers. Trying to focus on flickers of ki, he ran through the buildings and small streets, zeroing in on presences that were stuck or trapped, and doing his best to get them moving.

The closer he got to the fire, the more desperate the fight against time became.

But with Kenta at his side, directing his ki to his blade, he could cut through rubble and walls, break down doors and barricades for anyone left behind.

He lost track of time, he was so focused on finding people and getting them moving. His voice was hoarse from shouting, his eyes were dry from the heat, and it was difficult to breathe from the smoke. It hurt to channel his ki, to try to focus on the presences around him.  

He cut and cut, pulled people from the collapsing houses, pushed them to run…

When the fire reached Okami’s inn, Kenshin was on the verge of collapsing from sheer exhaustion. Yet, the streets were empty, the crowd having fled, and he couldn’t feel a single flicker moving behind him, only the heat and smoke of the fire spreading from one house to the next.

Kenshin gasped in relief, and ran.

He found Tomoe a couple miles to the east, where a group of children were gathered around her, holding her hands. People moved past her, but every now and then someone would shout a name and a child would perk up and rush to them.

She had been helping children lost in the crowd?

The few boys and girls with her weren’t screaming or crying anymore. They huddled next to her for comfort, listening to her words. It was like her natural calm and fearlessness had eased their panic, allowing them to trust her to find their families. Amidst all the chaos, those children saw what he did, that she was a calm spot in the sea.

She was _awe-inspiring_.

An aching warmth spread in his chest at the sight, and at that moment, Kenshin realized that he loved her.

Not in the quiet, unspoken manner he had witnessed between Master and Osumi-san, from Master looking at Osumi-san or how Osumi-san had smiled back, inviting his glances. Not in the manner he had heard the serving girls whispering about the samurai in the inn, evaluating everything from their looks to their wealth.

No… Tomoe meant more to him than that.

Her quiet grace, her strength, her kindness... she was everything he had ever wanted. The warmth in his chest took on an almost painful edge, a yearning for more. How wonderful would it be to curl closer to her and wrap himself in her calmness?

Kenshin gasped, and looked aside.

How dare he think such thoughts now?

Disaster was just around the corner and the endless stream of evacuating people had just lost everything they had. And while he was worn to the bone, filled with numbness and hurt, there was still work to be done, people that needed help, and he still had two healthy hands. It was as simple as that.

Kenshin raised his gaze and searched for Tomoe’s eyes over the morose crowd. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. He nodded at her. Just once, but it was enough.

Then he turned around and headed back to the town.

 

* * *

 

The wind blew south, spreading the fire all the way to the residential districts, the merchant’s quarters and where the lower castes lived. It kept burning throughout the day and evening, covering the city in a veil of smoke. The little they had managed to do, Kenshin, Tomoe, and the few Ishin Shishi men who had stayed back at the inn… it seemed insignificant in the scope of all that horror.

However, by the night’s end, the flames were finally burning out. Whole districts lay in ruin, along with most of the southeastern side of Kyoto.

Even amidst the disaster, Kenshin had seen Choshuu men escaping from the Imperial palace and Bakufu men chasing them through the crowd, careless of the chaos all around them.

It was like the war had driven men on both sides out of their minds.

Tomoe agreed with him. “They can’t see anything but war and revenge. The Bakufu and Rebels, both sides are lost in their madness and in the middle are the ordinary people, just trying to survive.”

 

* * *

 

_All this ruin… for nothing._

Katsura sighed sadly, staring at the smoldering city before him.

A few hot tempered idiots, some misinformation, exaggeration and a prisoner who knew too much: it didn’t really take all that much for a disaster like this to happen. Just those simple things and the Shinsengumi had raided Ikeda-ya, and had sent the volatile Choshuu leadership up in arms. All they had was an army of little less than three thousand men and a daring plan… but waiting for them at the Imperial palace was an enemy over twenty thousand strong and Satsuma’s four western field guns.

An inevitable outcome: over two hundred Choshuu dead and just few dozen casualties for the Bakufu.

Just those losses would have been an inexcusable tragedy, but then the fools had set the city on fire.

Katsura sighed.

On this bleak morning, even he felt ashamed to call himself a Choshuu rebel.

By conservative estimates, over twenty-five thousand houses had been destroyed by the fire, a large proportion of the city. The wind had blown the fire throughout the city, spreading the flames until it had been impossible to stop them. There had been countless civilian casualties – no one could even venture a guess of how many.

Adjusting the reed coat over his shoulders, Katsura shivered, the weight of shame and defeat hanging heavily on his shoulders. In spite of all he had tried to accomplish, it had come down to this.

“Look at us now… Kyoto’s Choshuu faction is destroyed. We are being pursued as enemies of the Emperor. In Hagi, the conservatives are gaining power. There’s been a reversal in the provincial government.” Katsura sighed again. “I’ll stay in hiding for a while. I can’t go back to Hagi, but if I stay here, I’ll be caught.”

Above him, leaning against the bridge, the boy asked softly, “What should I do? The inn was burnt to the ground…”

Katsura frowned in thought.

With Choshuu’s position in Kyoto in ruin, and both the Bakufu and his own clan’s government hunting him, his means had grown limited. Yet he had made some preparations for worst case scenarios early in the summer, back when the secret of Kenshin’s identity had started to fray.  

If nothing else, those options were still there.

“I have arranged for a house in a village outside the city, in Otsu. You can hide there until you decide what to do. I’ll contact you through Iizuka.”

That would take care of Kenshin, but… there was still the girl. She had worked her magic and Kenshin had been getting better in her presence, enough that even he had noticed it.

“Tomoe-kun.”

“Yes?”

“If you have nowhere to go, could you live there with Himura? A young couple will avoid suspicion more easily than a young man alone. Of course it would be just be for show.”

 _Look after him, please_ , Katsura thought and climbed to his feet tiredly.

Today, on this terrible morning, he might as well be the beggar under bridge he was dressed as, the reed coat and hat hiding his well-known face.

Hunted by both the Bakufu and Choshuu traditionalists as a scapegoat for this disaster, the man named Katsura Kogoro was crushed, his life’s work scattered to ashes and his reputation in ruins. But his teacher’s, Yoshida Shoin’s, creed was still with him, and in spite of this disaster… he would rise again.

For the future of the country, the Ishin Shishi would rise again.

 

* * *

 

Kenshin leaned against the bridge railing and watched Katsura-san walk away. Never before had he seen his leader look so… defeated.

If he was perfectly honest, he felt the same. Every inch of him was hurting, the numbness of exhaustion pressing heavily on him. If he allowed himself to, he could sit down right there and sleep for a day.

Sighing, he glanced at the woman beside him.

Tomoe looked just as bad as he probably did. She was covered in soot, dirt, and sweat. Yet, she had been a huge help, standing by his side through thick and thin. Even now, she had followed him to meet Katsura-san.

With the inn burnt down, the rebels hunted as enemies of the state… they had nowhere to go.

Kenshin had trusted that Katsura-san would at least have a suggestion for what they should do, but in his wildest dreams he hadn’t expected this. A safe house in the country, just for him and Tomoe?

It sounded too good to be true.

A break from the fighting, staying hidden somewhere with just her…

But what if she didn’t want to go with him? She had stayed with him at the inn because Okami-san had offered her work. They had shared a room out of necessity. But now, there was no work for her, no chance to earn money for a new start.

Simply put, she didn’t _need_ to stay with him.

He was stained and almost broken. There was nothing he could give her, nothing that would make her want to stay. She had survived hard times before, there was no doubt she could do so again. So given the chance to choose, why would she choose him?

Kenshin sighed. He truly didn’t want to be alone, not again. The very thought of living alone felt terrible. But she deserved to make her own choices.

“What should we do?” Tomoe asked quietly, looking at him seriously. “I don’t really have a place to go, but…”

Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut, his stomach lurching with disappointment at her words. Didn’t she realize that she could do anything she wanted? She shouldn’t make this decision out of need! Not this. The last thing he wanted was for her to stay with him because there were no _better options_.

“It’s not as though you have nowhere to go. If you need money for travelling, that can be arranged,” Kenshin bit out harshly, looking aside.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he cringed, feeling ashamed of his temper.

It was just that... he loved her.

He knew she couldn’t ever feel the same for him, but even if she felt just a fraction of what he did, it would be… no. She liked him, too. A little. She had said _we._ She had asked to stay with him, to be a sheath for his madness.

Actually, hadn’t it been her who had asked to stay with him in the first place?

Humbled by the realization, Kenshin turned to meet her gaze, and a bit hesitantly, said, “I guess… it’s wrong of me to leave it all up to you. Let’s live together. I don’t know how long it will last, but it doesn’t have to be for show.”

Her eyes widened at his words, a faint blush rising to color her cheeks under the soot and dirt… and then the tiniest sliver of a smile rose to her lips.

Her dark eyes were soft and her ki felt warm and welcoming and Kenshin realized finally that it wasn’t just him. She wanted it too, to live by his side in the little house in Otsu.

“Together…‘till death do us part.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 18.03.2016.


	10. Little house in Otsu

# Chapter 23. Little house in Otsu

 

After their meeting with Katsura-san, they found Katagai-san who then provided them with a little more information about the house. The bodyguard had been running errands, trying to find out who had survived and where people had gone in the aftermath.

According to Katagai-san, the house was a secluded farm in the countryside, near the village of Otsu, a little more than a ten mile walk from Kyoto, through the mountain pass that separated the city from Lake Biwa. Otsu had a small fishing community that provided the capital with freshwater fish, and on the highland there were quite a few farms. Their place was one of those.

It seemed altogether reasonable to Kenshin. It was a secluded location, but close enough that if the rebels needed his help, he could quickly return to the Capital.

When it came to the house itself, well… by Kenshin’s standards, it was huge. After all, the houses he had lived in before coming to Kyoto had been the poorest and tiniest of countryside huts. Half of this house’s floor was elevated and covered in wooden floorboards, instead of more common packed mud. There was a proper fire pit and even some furniture: a couple chests, a cupboard, and a table. Household necessities were already stocked. They had bedding, towels and some stored foodstuff, like rice and dried fish.  

Clearly, Katsura-san had planned ahead.

Nodding in satisfaction, Kenshin smiled, turning to look at the woman by his side, hoping against all hope that she would be as happy with the house as he was. While this was a good house, it couldn’t quite compete with the standards of true samurai.  

Tomoe stared mutely at the bare interior, the spots where the floorboards were leak-stained. She looked up and frowned. The roof was letting through sunlight in places.

 _…Uh oh._ Kenshin cringed. A leaky roof wasn’t a big deal for him. He had replaced roofing straws before, back at 12th master’s cabin, but for her…  

Then she nodded in determination. “It’s small and in bad shape, but we can make this a home.”

 _Err, that’s a better reaction than I feared, but… small?_ Kenshin blinked. Of course, compared to large city estates and Okami’s inn, sure, this was smaller, but for just the two of them? This was a lot of space. _Where did she live before, if this is small?_

“Do we have money?” Tomoe asked, walking to the cupboards to see what was there.  

“Yes.”

“Then we need to go to the village. We will need to buy fresh food, soap, and more clothing. All we have are these rags.”

 _Oh… okay, that makes sense._ Kenshin nodded, somewhat surprised by her cool efficiency and practicality. There was truth in her words, no doubt about it. The Great Kyoto fire had robbed them of everything they hadn’t carried there with them.

Fortunately, the loss wasn’t a large problem for either of them. After all, the most important possessions Kenshin owned, his swords, Kasumi’s top, and his savings, he tended to carry with him everywhere he went. Tomoe was the same. She carried her shawl and her diary with her all the time. The rest, like his spare clothes, traveling gear, sword cleaning kit… those were all replaceable.

Money wasn’t an issue. He had enough savings from his stipend that they could live here for a while with no worries. Though with the rebel’s situation being what it was, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to save where they could.  

Frowning in thought, Kenshin glanced at the hills all around them. During autumn with Master, they had saved money by hunting and gathering mushroom and berries from the forest. Here, the forest was higher in the mountains and it would be harder to track through it, more cumbersome to actually forage things. However, there was that proper field next to the house…

“We better go now, if we want to get back before sunset.” Tomoe called to him softly, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Kenshin nodded and followed her out.

The walk to the village wasn’t long, just a couple of miles. However, Kenshin couldn’t quite keep from worrying. The walk from Kyoto had been long and arduous. With her kimono and those wooden clogs, it couldn’t have been easy for Tomoe to walk that far, and yet, never once had she complained.

Was she in pain? Did she have blisters on her feet? She seemed tired to be sure, but that was only expected after yesterday’s catastrophe and having gone the night with little sleep. But maybe she felt she couldn’t say it, because for a samurai woman it wasn’t proper to complain?

Kenshin swallowed in growing unease. He hadn’t even thought about that earlier! He was just so used to traveling for long periods of time, but she was a… well, a lady. She couldn’t be used to enduring such hardship. Hesitating for a moment, Kenshin managed to gather his nerve to ask, “Do you need to take a break? It was a long walk…”

Tomoe glanced at him. “It wasn’t that long. I am used to walking.”

_Huh?_

Maybe his flummoxed expression was question enough, because her eyes softened a bit and she explained, “I traveled for several weeks before I got to Kyoto.”

_Weeks of travel?_

_How far away is she from?_ Kenshin blinked, startled by her words. Sure, he had noticed that she spoke somewhat differently than him. But in Kyoto’s melting pot, her speech was almost tame compared to the rest of the accents. He had assumed the strangeness was because of her education, her better upbringing… and because he was from so far south.

He hadn’t even thought that she could be from far away, too. A part of him wanted to question her more, to find out anything and everything he could about her.

But she always got so sad whenever they talked about the past. He didn’t want her to be sad. Not anymore. And did it matter, really? They were who they were and they were here, together. The past was over and done with. It was far better to focus on the future.

Lake Biwa was far larger than he had assumed. It spread as far as the eye could see, glimmering brightly with the colors of the setting sun. It was quite beautiful. The village was fairly large as well, a few dozen houses and an equal number of fishermen’s boats on the shore. There would definitely be some vendors there, selling whatever they would need.

Shopping for their necessities turned out to be a learning experience. Not in haggling or making purchases, but in a far subtler sense. It was like, in some strange way they were trying to settle into their roles as a man and a woman.

While Tomoe was older and knew exactly what she wanted to purchase, she tended to grow very reserved in public, behaving like a proper lady ought to. And now that they had agreed to be married, well…

It was the husband’s role to be the speaker.

If she had been alone, household purchases would have fallen under her responsibility, but now that they were together, she expected him to buy the things she discreetly pointed out to him. In a way, it was logical. It was his money, and out of the two of them, he knew how to survive with little and had absolutely no compunctions about haggling.

He wasn’t very good at it, true. He had no practical experience, but he knew how it was done. It was a game. And in order to play, he would have to be bold and decisive… so Kenshin did his best to master his hesitation and dislike of talking with strangers.

Tomoe’s presence by his side made it easier, somehow. He knew that he would have her support and that the better price he got, the longer he could stretch their money. Also, a small part of him, well, quite a large part actually, wanted to impress her, to show her that he was a man, not a child.

So they managed to buy some fish and fresh greens to last them a couple of days, the soap she had been adamant about, a few miscellaneous household items she said they needed, and spare kimono for the both of them.

The elderly seamstress was all too eager to help them, tutting about how terrible their clothing looked due to the fire. Apparently, they weren’t the only refugees that had passed through her shop that day. However, while she took their measurements to adjust the clothing for a better fit, she kept asking questions about them. _Personal_ questions.

Most likely she was the village gossip, the way she delighted in wheedling out details… but the thing was, she was only asking Tomoe.

It wasn’t that Kenshin thought it bad that someone wanted to talk to Tomoe, especially because she didn’t seem like she was overly bothered by the seamstress’s curiosity, but at the same time, he didn’t want anything to do with gossip. He had had enough bad experiences with people like that, with the rumors of Hitokiri Battousai, and even earlier.

Somewhat annoyed, Kenshin weighed his options for a brief moment before discreetly slipping his coin purse into Tomoe’s hand.

She glanced at him in question, before her eyes widened in understanding and she made a fleeting, tiny signal with her hand, like she was saying, ‘ _Go, I can handle this_.’

Relief coursing through his body, Kenshin headed outside.

It was a really nice evening. The sun was setting steadily on the horizon, and the weather was warm but not hot. A slight breeze tingled pleasantly against his skin. It was almost enough to convince him that the horrors and disaster in Kyoto hadn’t happened at all. Yet, exhaustion and numb hurt pressed on him, rearing their ugly heads as he settled himself, leaning against the wall just outside the shop.  

In the pleasant warmth, it would have been easy to find a nice dark corner and sleep for a day. Kenshin sighed, rubbing his face. Hopefully after this, they could head back to the house and rest.

Through the thin wall, Tomoe and the seamstress’s voices moved closer, changing from a barely audible mumble to quiet words.

“...escaped from Kyoto. We lost everything in the fire.”

“Oh you poor girl, that’s terrible indeed. And that young man, is he your brother? Those swords he has with him…”

“Oh no, Kenshin is my husband.”

For some reason, it felt really good to hear her say it. Kenshin smiled tiredly.

They might not be married on paper, but they were both old enough and they had agreed to it, and it wasn’t like marriage required fancy ceremonies. Those were just for the higher classes, for wealthy people showing off for their families. Neither of them had a family, so really, it was just an agreement between the two of them. It was as official as it needed to be. Among the lower classes, nothing more was needed.

 _Tomoe… my wife._ Kenshin smiled wistfully. “Himura Tomoe,” he mouthed out loud, tasting the syllables. It sounded good. And while his name wasn’t as real as hers, well, in a way he had made it his own and it sounded right. It was who he was these days.  

“Your husband? My goodness! He seems so young, and that hair and those swords… they are quite frightening, really. With the city being so close, all those samurai and the talk of war…”

And just like that, the bubble of happiness he had drawn around himself burst, and Kenshin’s eyes shot open in alarm. The seamstress sounded downright _wary_. And now that he noticed, the few people passing by on the street kept giving him covert looks… not just staring at his hair, but looking lower.

Kenshin tensed, and glanced down at his paired swords. He had gotten so used to carrying weapons with him that he hadn’t even thought it would be strange, but these people were fishermen and village folk, not samurai. Swords weren’t everyday things for them and worse, the whole point of coming to Otsu had been to hide!

 _Oh shit…._ Kenshin gulped.

He should have known to leave the swords at the house. He really, really should have! They couldn’t afford to attract attention, not when they knew that rebels were being hunted as enemies of the state!

Tomoe’s low voice came through the wall with the slightest hint of apprehension, “Kenshin is not here to cause trouble. He just carries his swords to protect us. The times are difficult…”

“Oh, I see…”

Their voices faded back to a murmur.

Kenshin closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to keep from rushing inside. Thank god for Tomoe’s quick mind! She should be able to calm the seamstress a little – well, enough that the swords wouldn’t be the main focus of her gossip. Yet, while the damage was done and there was no use crying over spilled milk, it wouldn’t be good to stay here any longer.

Tomoe came out of the shop sometime later, carrying bundles of clothing in her arms. She looked as exhausted as he felt, but she nodded at him seriously and said, “Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

Living with Tomoe in a secluded farmhouse wasn’t all that different from living with her in the inn.

He enjoyed her company, truly. She was kind and soft-spoken and it was nice to be with her, because no matter what happened, she was unflappable.

However, what came as somewhat of a surprise to him was the scary efficiency with which she took over the household chores. There was a comfortable expertise to her motions, like she wasn’t new to taking over a household, but rather she had done it long enough to develop her own way of doing things. It was like, for her, there was no question as to which one of them would cook, clean, wash laundry, and do other such simple duties.

In a way he could understand it, because she was a woman and all… but the thing was, Kenshin had always been responsible for those chores. They were familiar and easy and he had even come to take a small bit of pride in his skills. After all, between him and Master Hiko, it had been all around more convenient for Master to hunt, chop wood, and do the heavy lifting.

But now, with Tomoe… he was the husband.

So in the last few days of frantic cleaning and repairing the house, Kenshin had been thrust badly out of his comfort zone and been forced to tackle duties he wasn’t all that good at. Not that he would ever dare mention it to Tomoe, but it was… err, somewhat strange, that was all.

There seemed to be a lot of menial tasks and heavy lifting for him to do. Anything from cutting down trees, chopping them down into firewood, and piling the logs next to house to dry, to carrying buckets full of water from the stream just behind the house, and so on.

And of course, there was the leaky roof.

Actually, that chore had been almost fun. Not only had he done it before, but it had been a good, productive way of using ki. Especially because the only ladder he had found in the farm had rotted to the point that it was only useful as firewood.

Thankfully Tomoe hadn’t seen him jump to the roof, though. If she found out about ki, she would definitely think him ever weirder and scarier… maybe even unnatural.

Kenshin frowned.

When he had used the ki, Kenta had been there, but it had felt somewhat unresponsive. Was it because of how much he had been forced to rely on it during the fire? Or was it something worse? Come to think of it, they hadn’t actually talked in ages. Maybe he had been a terrible friend, but Kenta hadn’t seemed angry or disappointed with him, no... it almost felt like it was sleeping?

Should he take time and try to figure it out?

“Food is ready.”

The soft melodic voice pulled him out of his musings and Kenshin spun around. She was waiting at the doorway wearing her new simple summer yukata and an apron tied around her waist.

She was beautiful. So calm and relaxed, looking like she was at home…

_My wife._

The thought still hadn’t lost its novelty. Warmth bloomed in his chest, shoving aside all his worries and concerns, and smiling shyly, Kenshin headed inside.

As with everything else she had claimed as her responsibility, Tomoe excelled in cooking. Every dish she had scrambled together from their meager supplies had been very good. Definitely better than most of the fare he could have come up with.

It reminded him of Osumi-san’s words, how she had said that while most people could cook, only a few had any artistry in it. His cooking definitely didn’t have that flair, but Tomoe… she wasn’t up to Osumi-san’s level yet, but she wasn’t far off. With time, a wider range of ingredients and seasonings, maybe she could find her calling in cooking, too? It would be wonderful if she could find something that brought her joy.

It seemed justified to give her money to buy fresh fish and ingredients from the village as often as she wanted. She accepted his offering with a certain delight and took it upon herself to visit the village almost daily. It was perfectly fine with Kenshin. After all, the village was close and their money wasn’t stretched _that_ thin. Besides, if the villagers didn’t see him all the time, maybe they would forget about his swords?

So they settled into a routine quite easily, living in the peace and quiet of the countryside.

However, after they got most of the mess cleaned up and repaired, there was only so much Kenshin could find to do in the little house. It wouldn’t have been a problem, if he hadn’t grown used to always doing something or going somewhere. Just sitting around and doing nothing… it was making him restless, like he had a little itch that he couldn’t quite reach.

He didn’t miss fighting or killing. No, he was perfectly happy to put aside his swords. It wasn’t like he could even help the rebels in Kyoto, the situation being as it was, but…

He simply had too much energy and not enough to do.  

Tomoe noticed his restlessness and took to helping him in her own quiet way, brushing his hair every single evening.

It was almost a guilty pleasure for Kenshin.

But as good as it felt, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed. Tomoe already did so much for him, and she was always so patient with his failures, that it felt wrong to depend on her like this.

The field next to their house was covered in weeds. It had been farmed once upon a time, but had been unused for years, and it kept drawing Kenshin’s eye. He didn’t really know all that much about farming and it was rather late in season to even try, but how hard could it be? He could remember a little from his childhood, from the time before the sword… and his father had been a farmer. He had a vague sense that he had helped in the field as a boy.

Maybe, he could figure it out?

It took a few days for his resolve to strengthen, before Kenshin finally dared to bring up the subject. They were finishing dinner. The food was wonderful as always, but for some reason Tomoe’s eyes had a spark of displeasure as she ate methodically.  

“The next time you visit the village,” he started hesitantly, “could you buy some seeds?”

She glanced up, raising her brow in surprise. “Why?”

“Err… I’d like to try growing something. In the field, I mean. I could use some work.” Kenshin explained and looked aside, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. He wasn’t exactly sure why he felt embarrassed about this. Maybe it was because he couldn’t stand the restlessness he felt but didn’t know how to get rid of it, other than working himself to exhaustion?

“Oh,” she murmured, her eyes softening. She had seen his troubles, too. “What kind of seeds do you want?”

“I don’t know,” Kenshin hedged, “but maybe you could ask around about what would be good to grow late in the season?”

“I will do so tomorrow.” Tomoe nodded in acceptance.

And that was how Kenshin got the means to try out his farming experiment. Tomoe brought him seeds for radishes, cabbages, carrots, and beets. Apparently, the villager who had sold them to her had said they were suitable for this late in the season because they could handle both rain and frost.

Given the size of their field and the sheer amount of work it would take to weed it, upturn the soil, and plant the seeds, Tomoe had asked if she could help. However, as kind as her offer was, Kenshin had declined. It didn’t matter how long it would take, how stupid it was to even try… he just wanted a way to waste some of his energy in a somewhat productive way.

Tomoe accepted his reasoning fairly easily, but after her own chores were done, she would lay a blanket on the grass near the field and spend time embroidering her shawl or simply watching him work until the sun set.   

It felt good to fall asleep after a hard day's work, Kenshin found out. Though, admittedly, weeding and hoeing the ground made his arms and back ache _hideously_.

Another issue was his clothing. His formal hakama were really impractical for field work. The wide hem of his pants would get in the way all the damn time and the thick cotton was too warm in the sun. He would sweat like a pig, not just from exertion but from sheer heat. Because of that, he had taken to wearing only his frayed kimono with the sleeves tied up. It was long enough to fall below his knees, but it didn’t exactly keep the sun off his pale legs. But a little sunburn was nothing, and his clothing alterations worked well enough.

He was almost finished hoeing the field, when they got a visitor.

Kenshin had sensed the new presence nearing them from far away, but hadn’t been too worried. Given how wavering and weak it felt, no matter who it was, they couldn’t be a threat.

However, to his utter surprise, he knew their visitor.

It was Iizuka-san.

The realization left Kenshin reeling. While ki presences were more of an impression than anything solid, he didn’t quite know why it would change to the point that it was nearly unrecognizable. Sure, Iizuka’s ki had hardly been the nicest before, but now its wavering weakness was almost off-putting.

But then again, it had been about a month since he had seen the man. The Great fire and the rebellion at the Imperial palace’s Hamaguri gate had brought hard times for Choshuu. Maybe, that had been enough to bring such a change to the man?

The time since then had felt a lot longer than one month, truly.  

“Hey! You are pretty good at that!” Iizuka-san greeted him jovially. Like him, Iizuka-san wasn’t carrying swords nor was he dressed like a samurai. Instead, he had a large wooden chest on his back? The rebels were still laying low, then

Kenshin nodded his greetings and invited his superior inside.

Tomoe’s eyes widened at the sight of them, but as if she had drawn a mask over her face, she mastered her confusion and went to prepare tea. She was really good at proper hosting, behaving with the best of manners no matter the situation, Kenshin noted proudly.

Iizuka-san frowned, following their quiet exchange.

It was distinct enough that Kenshin had to ask, “What is it?”

“I think the two of you could really pass for an actual married couple.”

Tomoe tensed slightly, but kept calm and poured tea for them without a word, only tilting her head in silent question and sparing a minute glance at their guest.

 _Oh, she is leaving it to me?_ Kenshin paused in consideration. He still didn’t care much for Iizuka-san and his terrible humor. However, no matter the chaos of the summer, he was still his closest superior and he trusted the man. Iizuka-san had been with him from the start and maybe, this was the sort of thing was that the Ishin Shishi should be aware of.

“Actually, we are getting married for real.”

Iizuka-san spurted out his tea and coughed madly, staring at them like they had claimed that pigs could fly and fishes could walk on water. It was far too hilarious an expression to overlook, but if he laughed out loud, the man would never believe he had been serious...

“You got to be joking!” Iizuka-san finally sputtered.

“No.” Kenshin shook his head, struggling to keep his face as calm and nonplussed as possible.

Tomoe was far better at it, he noted. She reached to wipe the table dry, and pour Iizuka-san more tea as she said serenely, “We have not yet had a ceremony, but for all intents and purposes we are married already.”

She was looking at him with a soft gaze, her ki feeling all warm and safe. She was so beautiful, his wife – and she had said it, herself. How could he help answering that look?

Kenshin smiled wistfully.

Then she bowed slightly and rose to her feet gracefully. “I will leave you to your conversation. Please, excuse me.”

It was the polite thing to do, to leave them alone to discuss business. After all, it wasn’t like Iizuka-san would tell him anything relevant with her there, yet, it left him feeling a bit disappointed. He had grown used to having her company all the time, and besides, it has been quite fun to double team Iizuka-san, to pay the man back for his infernal humor, for once.

“I don’t blame you for falling in love, but are you sure it’s the proper time for it?” Iizuka-san’s question pulled him out of his musings.

Kenshin sighed, and forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. “No,” he replied tersely, because it was a relevant question with an all too obvious answer. They both knew how precarious the situation was. “Do you have any news?”

Like a switch had been turned on, Iizuka’s gaze sharpened and dropped all manner of teasing.

A bad sign.

“Yes. Our situation is looking bleak. Because of the disaster in Kyoto, our compatriots are being purged in Hagi and the Capital.”

“…Purged?”

Iizuka-san dug his pipe out of his sleeve pocket and lit it, explaining softly, like it was as obvious as the changing weather, “The conservatives in Choshuu are trying to save face with the Tokugawa. They are forcing the clan elders who supported us to perform seppuku as a sign of good faith. Ritual suicide is a daily occurrence. It’s horrible news, all around.”

Rising to his feet, Iizuka-san made his way to the window, smoking silently.

 _Forced_ to commit suicide? By their own clan, just to save the clan’s reputation? Kenshin tensed, disgust turning his stomach. He had known the attack on the Imperial palace and the resulting fire had been an inexcusable mistake, yet this seemed beyond the pale. How could the rebels ever succeed if things had gotten this bad?

_Does it even make sense to try anymore?_

“However, we managed to prevent the Tokugawa from declaring an all out war on Choshuu. Both sides have suffered great losses, and the battle is far from over. Anyway, we are currently trying to get Takasugi out of prison. Hopefully he will be able to revive the Kiheitai. If so, we will be able to turn Hagi into a battlefield.”

 _So it’s not over… yet._ Kenshin exhaled slowly, not quite sure why he felt so unsettled, like someone had shaken the ground under his feet. His fingers tingled with the need to hold something, so he grabbed his teacup as a poor substitute for his sword.

The plan Iizuka-san had outlined sounded fairly logical, yes.

Knowing Takasugi-san, the man would be sure to get things moving in Hagi. However, he couldn’t help but notice that one very obvious bit of news was _lacking_. Wetting his lips, Kenshin asked, “How is Katsura-san?”

“We don’t know where he is. I am sorry to say that we believe that he has turned coward and run away.”

“That’s impossible,” Kenshin gasped, eyes wide as saucers.

“The world is a sad and surprising place. All we can do now is wait.” Iizuka-san said, turning to look at him with grim eyes.

But, but… _Katsura-san_ turning coward?

True, his leader had looked defeated when he had last seen him... but no, it simply wasn’t possible. Katsura-san wasn’t the sort of man to give up. No matter what happened, his leader wouldn’t abandon their dream for the new era. Kenshin exhaled slowly, gripping the teacup tighter in his hands, trying to regain composure.

“I have some money for you from Katagai. That package is for you, also. It’s full of medicines to sell,” Iizuka-san said, pointing at the wooden chest he had left by the doorway.

“...You want me to _sell_ medicines?” Kenshin blinked at it with incomprehension.

“You need a visible source of income so you won’t arouse suspicion,” Iizuka-san explained, like it was obvious.

And perhaps it was, but, but… he didn’t know anything about medicines! And going to villages, visiting strangers and talking to them, trying to sell them things – how on earth did they think he could do it? He hated talking to strangers. This was quite possibly the worst job in the world for him! Sputtering, Kenshin tried to rack his mind for excuses. “But there is no one around here for miles! How would they know where we get our money?”

Iizuka-san gave him a look. “You may find it necessary to travel someday. This will provide you with a good cover to do so.”

Then without another word, Iizuka-san upturned his pipe into his teacup, and turned to leave. “Don’t even think of returning to Kyoto yet. Conservatives and Shinsengumi are hunting for all rebels. They have killed more men than even you were able to dispatch.”  

The orders weren’t necessary, but Kenshin nodded, appreciating the warning as he followed Iizuka outside. The fact was, he had no intention whatsoever of returning to Kyoto before he was recalled, or seeking out unnecessary fights. He had seen war and hated it, far worse than he had ever hated killing.   

“I’ll be back to check on you and to take you back when it’s time. Farewell,” Iizuka-san said quietly, before smirking a bit and raising his voice. “Tomoe, I hope you enjoy being a druggist’s wife.”

 

* * *

 

A couple days after Iizuka-san’s visit, Kenshin finally finished his project. Well, it was their project at this point, truly, because Tomoe had wanted to help him with planting the seeds. He hadn’t turned down her help again, because the project had already fulfilled its purpose, abating most of his restless energy, and at that point he had just wanted to get it over and done with.

Now, they were sitting on a blanket, watching the sun set over their field. The had eaten dinner there, and now they had cracked open a small jar of sake Tomoe had bought to celebrate the event.

It tasted good.

 _‘Or perhaps it is the company, and seeing the results of all our hard work?’_ Kenshin mused, glancing at the woman by his side. She, too, looked pleased, as close to happy as he had ever seen her, staring at their field and the rows upon rows of plowed earth.

Perhaps it was a fool’s hope that anything would come out of it. After all, it wasn’t like either of them knew anything about farming. His knowledge was scarce at best and as for her, well, she hadn’t ever done anything even remotely related to farming or gardening before. She had admitted that to him, mentioning briefly that she had lived her whole youth in a city.

“It’s late in the season and it might not work,” Kenshin murmured thoughtfully, glancing at her, “but it was really nice to work like that.”

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s going to work.” She tilted her head, considering, “You didn’t do it to grow something, you just wanted to do something with your own two hands.”

“That’s true,” Kenshin admitted. “But, if something does come out of it, no matter how small the vegetables turn out to be… they will save us money.”

“About money… are you going to try to sell those medicines?” Tomoe asked curiously, but there was a glint to her eye, like she knew exactly why he had avoided even looking at the damn box.

He avoided her gaze, heat rising on his cheeks. “Probably. The villagers are already wondering what my profession is. Selling medicines would help to calm their rumors.”

Her ki become a shade colder, and instantly, Kenshin looked up, somewhat worried.

There was a frown on her face, before she spoke quietly. “I don’t believe they think you're a rebel, and definitely not the ghastly murderer Hitokiri Battousai. However, they do think you peculiar. Your looks are…”   

“I know.” Kenshin hunching his shoulders, scowling, “Maybe it’s good for once that I’m small and weird. There is no fear of anyone taking me seriously.”

Like the sun peeking out from the clouds, her ki warmed up and she let out a small breathless cough… almost a laugh? Kenshin turned to look at her so fast that his neck creaked. She was covering her mouth with her hand and her eyes were large in her surprise, like she didn’t know what was happening either.

His eyes wide in disbelief, Kenshin gasped, “ _You_ are laughing?”

The breathless coughing sound continued and she wheezed, turning to look away in embarrassment, but it was unmistakable.

She was definitely laughing!

A smile tugged at his lips at the realization. He had made her laugh. A small laugh, so tiny that it could hardly even be called proper laughter, but it was a start! And though it was at his expense, well, what did it matter?

He had made her laugh, given her this small happiness… and it was the best feeling in the world.

Basking in the moment, Kenshin smiled and leaned back on his arms, tilting his face to enjoy the last warmth of the sun, allowing her time to gather her composure. He knew how important her cool reserve was to her, and the last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable by his company.

It took her a while, but finally she said quietly, “You are not that small, not really. Sure, you are bit shorter than most men, but you can still grow height. And while your hair and eyes are strange… and somewhat startling, you are as Japanese as me or anyone else. No matter what people say, you don’t look like a foreigner or a child.”

Everything she said, Kenshin had realized on his own over the years. He knew it to be true and yet, it _mattered_ to hear her say it.

All his youth, he had seen people looking at him like he was something ugly and weird. He had come to accept it. He couldn’t change it, no matter how much he had occasionally wanted to. Growing up in the south, wandering the countryside around Choshuu where the hate against foreigners was the strongest, it had been very important to him that he looked Japanese. It still was, if he was perfectly honest with himself.

But to know that _she_ could see it too, felt good.

Kenshin shook his head and poured himself another cup of sake, before offering the jar to her. She allowed him to pour some for her and sipped it gracefully.

Maybe, if she could see past his strange colors, then perhaps he wasn’t entirely unpleasant for her to look at? She had said he was _peculiar_ and _startling_ , but neither of those things were exactly bad?

“People have always remarked on my looks,” Kenshin explained quietly, “I can mostly ignore it, but I just… I don’t want to be seen as a child. I am a man, not a boy.”

“I wouldn’t be able to marry a boy. No, you are a man,” she confirmed softly.

Kenshin glanced at her thoughtfully. Again, she had mentioned marriage. Did it mean something that she kept bringing it up? When Iizuka-san had visited, she had mentioned they hadn’t had a ceremony yet.

“Do you want a ceremony?” he asked curiously.   

She looked aside and fiddled with her cup, before she spoke. “I know it’s not practical. Neither of us have families to invite, nor do we have money for unnecessary things. As far as anyone else needs to know, we are already married in all the ways that matter. But still… I would like to have a blessing.”

“A blessing? From a temple?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. ”My family was Buddhist. And though we weren’t particularly religious… it would mean something to me.”

The way she spoke, somewhat hesitant and unsure, it felt like a knife twisting in his chest. Didn’t she know he would do anything for her? She had already done so much for him and she asked so little… did she fear he wouldn’t approve of such a thing?

Kenshin steeled his nerves and reach across the blanked to take her hand. Her skin was cool and smooth, almost soft. There were no callouses on her fingers – hers was the hand of a lady.

She gasped at his touch, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted in surprise.

“Tomoe… anything you want. Anything at all, I will always try my best to give it to you. So if you want a Buddhist blessing, we will get one.”

Her gaze softened and she inclined her head. “Thank you… Kenshin.”

The way she said his name, with such familiarity… it brought heat to his cheeks like nothing else. Swallowing dryly, Kenshin turned to look at the last rays of the sun filtering through the treetops and mountains that surrounded their home.

He didn’t let go of her hand until it was dark.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 25.03.2016.


	11. Growing closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter has the most awkward citrus scene, ever. (The first smut I wrote!) And another, because I am trash. However, both of those scenes are more cute than smutty – this is our dear, socially awkward Kenshin, after all. :D
> 
> Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering

# Chapter 24. Growing closer

 

The very next day, early in the morning, Kenshin and Tomoe left to find a temple. They were no pressing matters at the house and it was a lovely morning to travel. Besides, one of the advantages of living near the spiritual center of the country was that Kyoto and the surrounding areas had plenty of temples. True, Kenshin didn’t exactly know where they could find a Buddhist temple, but he figured that if they kept walking, they would come across a sign, or someone to ask for advice.

In preparation, they packed up some food, water jugs, and a blanket to rest on, if need be. Well, the last one was his addition. Tomoe was a lady and though she was resilient, he didn’t want to push her when there was no need.

When it came to his katana, he didn’t dare take it with him. The situation being as strained as it was, the last thing they needed was for people to think him a samurai. It was bad enough that he couldn’t quite keep the southern tang from his speech, signaling to everyone that he was from seditious Choshuu. However, he did take his wakizashi and rolled it into the blanket, available at a reasonably easy reach, should push come to shove. It wasn’t that he was paranoid, but he just couldn’t even consider travelling entirely unarmed.

Tomoe noted his inner battle with his weapons with quiet approval – she had never cared for fighting.

When it came to clothing, they both decided to wear their old kimono. His choice was born out of the need to appear as harmless as he could, and frayed clothing seemed a reasonable choice. For Tomoe, though, it couldn’t be the same – she spent a good long while brushing her hair until it shone, then tying it up neatly and adding rouge to her lips. Clearly, she wanted to look her best today. Maybe the old white kimono had some special significance to her, then? He couldn’t say. She looked pretty in any case.

The beginning of autumn was showing in the shortened days, the leaves yellowing in the trees. Yet it was still warm and pleasant to travel. The rains should be coming soon. They walked in comfortable silence. There was no need to chatter over meaningless things, they just enjoyed the moment and the beauty surrounding them.

Every now and then, Kenshin glanced at Tomoe out of the corner of his eye. Being so close to her, he couldn’t help noticing that she wasn’t that much taller than him. Sure, with her high wooden clogs, she had a couple inches on him, but without them, the difference couldn’t be _that_ much. Maybe an inch or so? He could have sworn she had been a lot taller earlier. Had he finally grown a bit and not noticed? Or maybe he finally felt comfortable enough to discount her shoes…

In any case, it was really nice walking with her.

This trip truly was a good idea, he decided. Though admittedly, he didn’t have any particular interest in religion. He didn’t know much about it nor had he ever had a reason to find out more. The only way the topic had popped up during training was because Master, too, had been Buddhist when it suited him – which was almost never. It had only shown through his occasional remarks and their few visits to the temple where 12th Master was buried.

The thing with religion, or so Kenshin had figured, was that only people who had the time for it got caught up in it. Mostly that meant the higher classes, or those who didn’t have anything better to do with their time.

As it stood, he’d never felt that he belonged to any religion, not really. He knew that most peasants and lower classes were Shinto in faith. And while he didn’t remember any religion from his childhood, he did believe in spirits. _Does that make my faith Shinto, too?_ Kenshin mused. Well, not that it mattered. A blessing was a blessing from whatever god or priest who gave it, and it would be nice to have some sort of confirmation for their marriage.

It would give a bit more of an official feel to it.

Maybe then he could convince himself that this was real, that she was his wife, now and forever? Because every now and then… Kenshin sighed, glancing at her again. She was so beautiful, so calm and collected – a true lady. Maybe after today, he could believe he deserved a woman like her standing by his side.

A hollow ache rose in his chest at the thought. He loved her, almost too much, and the feeling was growing by the day, but she – well, there was this distance between them.

Her cool reserve, her calmness, her lack of expression… as much as he understood, oh god how well he understood the necessity for it, he also wanted to break down the wall around her heart piece by piece. He wanted her to smile and laugh, to feel good and safe in his company.

Just like she made him feel, the feeling growing each day in intensity.

Yet, there was this hesitation, this persistent and lingering fear that this was all make-believe, that none of the things he thought he saw in her dark eyes were real.

“What are you frowning about?” Tomoe tilted her head in curiosity.

Instantly, Kenshin looked away and reddened in shame. No, he couldn’t doubt her! She had agreed to be married to him and that was it. “Nothing…”

“Are you sure?”

He couldn’t voice these thoughts aloud; they would bring her nothing but pain and that was the last thing he wanted for her on a day like this. Hurriedly, he searched for something to distract her with.

Just ahead of them, two ki-presences were heading their way. Still avoiding her gaze, Kenshin exhaled and suggested softly, “There are people coming our way. Maybe we could ask if they know where to find a temple?”

Tomoe nodded slowly, accepting his words and the change in topic at face-value. Thoughtfully, she frowned, “How do you always know?”

“Errr…” Kenshin stammered. If he told her the truth, she would think him an unnatural freak for sure! But he didn’t want to lie to her! Cringing inwardly, he searched for the safest words to explain it. “I, ah… it’s a swordsmanship thing. I sense their life energy.”

“…Life energy?” she said slowly, raising her brow.

“Um, yeah…”

However, the two women carrying baskets over their heads walked up the hill, and to his relief, spared him from continuing their suddenly awkward discussion.

It turned out that the two women did know of a Buddhist temple not too far away. It was called Enryaku-ji and it was quite famous. The locals were very proud of it.

The women thought it sweet that they wanted a blessing for their new marriage and were only too eager to point them in the right direction. “Just continue on for a couple miles and then take the road to the left… it will lead you to the temple stairs. It’s quite a climb, but you will get there! Good luck!”

However, while it was nice to have their help and unquestioning approval of their plans, Kenshin had felt somewhat embarrassed by their inquiries. Tomoe had noticed it and without a further word handled the discussion with skill and grace. He was glad to have her by his side, he truly was. She had this quiet confidence and inner fortitude he admired endlessly.

 _How wonderful would it to be to be that calm, to not doubt and worry over every little thing?_ Kenshin wondered wistfully, watching Tomoe bid farewell to the local women.

They found the correct path not long after and like the women had said, it was quite unmistakable. The stairs lead up the slope of the thick mountain forest, and they were quite steep. So much so that not long after they began the climb, Tomoe started to have problems. Not from overexertion, but because her geta were not made for climbing.

After battling with his hesitations, Kenshin finally dared to offer his hand to steady her.  

She glanced at him gracefully and took it.

He smiled. _Maybe we are getting more used to each other?_

Her grip was steady and firm, and he matched her pace easily, allowing her small pauses without question. Being so close to her, able to hear her small pants, to see the trickle of perspiration on her brow… it was utterly enchanting and set off butterflies in the pit of his stomach. Her skin was so smooth, almost silky.

How would wonderful would it be to touch her?

To share the touches that were expected of husbands and wives? Kenshin looked aside, his breath catching in his throat. The very thought of such intimacy felt intimidating: to be so close to someone, to be utterly bare, with nothing to hide behind…

He swallowed dryly.

Even with Tomoe, he wasn’t sure he could.

Even now, even after having lived the whole summer with her… he still had trouble relaxing. Physical closeness felt especially difficult, and husbands and wives, they _slept_ together.

Even here in Otsu, far away from the fighting and danger, sleeping posed difficulties for him. Only when he was calm enough could he attempt to sleep, and even then he needed his sword in his arms, another by his side, and something solid against his back. He needed to see the door, to watch all movements, to be sure there was nothing to threaten them. While these days he had managed to avoid the worst of his nightmares, he knew they were always lurking there, at the edge of his mind, waiting for him to become vulnerable.

To sleep lying down with Tomoe, touching her… It was impossible.

Kenshin glanced at her quietly, taking in the determined tilt of her chin, how her dark eyes were narrowed in concentration as she worked her way up the stairs. She was so beautiful, so wonderful… She deserved a husband that could give her _everything_.

Yes, no matter how long it would take, he decided. One day, he would be so comfortable in her presence that he would give her even that, would touch her like the woman she was.

 

* * *

 

They made it up to the mountain temple early in the afternoon. The trip had been a lot shorter than he had dared to estimate, just about ten miles. However, nearly half of that had been an uphill climb. The famous temple was very old and it stood amidst the spacious grounds. There weren’t many visitors, no doubt because of the difficult way there, and the monks welcomed them without a second glance and agreed to give them a blessing for a small fee.

While he made the arrangements, Tomoe had done her best to freshen up and rearrange her clothing to hide the effects of travel.

The monk’s blessing was different than he had expected… and it made him think. Even if he felt slightly ridiculous kneeling next to Tomoe, listening to a bald old man in an orange robe chant with a scratchy voice. He really hadn’t ever partaken in a religious rite before.

“Do not deceive; do not despise each other anywhere. Do not be angry nor bear secret resentments…” the monk said solemnly.

Tomoe’s eyes were closed, but somehow her face seemed sad? He ki had gained a cold tint to it, the way it always did whenever she was reminded of the past.

Kenshin frowned, thinking back to his own lies. He wasn’t a samurai, no matter what clothes he wore nor swords he carried. Katsura-san had given him a name through deceit and admitting that wouldn’t just hurt him, but also his leader. But that wasn’t the end of his lies, was it? Just today, hadn’t he been glad to avoid explaining ki to her, despite her wary curiosity? He had never even thought to speak of Kenta with anyone, either.

“…for as a mother will risk her life and watches over her child, so boundless be your love to all, so tender, kind and mild.”

So really, wasn’t he constantly deceiving her by withholding the truth?

The thought raised goosebumps on his skin, an uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to lie to her, he really didn’t… but he didn’t want her to look at him like he was a freak.

“Cherish good will right and left, early and late….”

Maybe he should be upfront with her and answer her questions clearly. But he had always hidden his ki usage because it made him seem even more unnatural than he already was. After all, no one ever seemed to understand it, not really. Not even Master.

“…and without hindrance, without stint, be free of hate and envy…”

But as the monk’s chant continued, somehow, bit by bit, the uncomfortable feeling at the pit of his stomach lessened, the shameful doubts, the fears and hesitations giving way to understanding, and Kenshin began to see just why Tomoe had wanted to do this.

Quietly, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

Her eyes were sad, her back ramrod straight as she sat with perfect posture, but her ki was warming up as she soaked up surety from the monk’s calm words.

It felt good to see her find her will and resolve, her quiet confidence.  

Maybe he could lean on her, whenever his fears became too much to bear?

“….while standing and walking and sitting down, whatever you have in mind, the rule of life that is always best is to be loving-kind.” The monk finished his chant. In the echoing silence, he gave them a respectful bow.

It was over.

“Now,” Tomoe whispered, turning to look at him softly, “Now we are married in my heart.”

Kenshin gaped at her, utterly speechless...

The corner of her lips lifted a bit and she rose off her knees, offering her hand to him. “Let’s return home, dear husband of mine.”

His heart fluttered, and smiling, he took it.

 

* * *

 

The sun had set swiftly as they had descended down the stairs, and somewhere halfway down they had finally decided to make camp for the night. It wasn’t exactly safe to climb down the steep stairs in darkness and they were in no particular hurry. For once, Kenshin’s cautiousness came in handy, and he arranged the blanket for her to rest on and shared the dried food he had carried on his back. It had been nice to do something so familiar, because if there was one thing he knew by heart, it was camping.

He had kept watch through the night, leaning against a tree while she rested. It had felt good, to watch over her dreams. Tomoe, though, hadn’t slept too well. It was perfectly understandable. While the weather had stayed warm throughout the night, the mosquitoes had bothered her some and the blanket was a far cry from her soft futon.

Despite the small hiccups, Kenshin considered the trip a success.

It seemed that Tomoe had gained whatever piece of mind she had been looking for, and he had found some certainty, some resolution of his own, too.

But coming home, the main issue with his farming experiment became apparent: after the seeds were planted, there wasn’t much to do but _wait_. Sure, Kenshin was by the field every day, carrying water to the tiny seedlings wherever the ground felt too dry, plucking weeds whenever he spotted some, but it wasn’t nearly enough work to quell his recurring bouts of restlessness.

And now that the autumn rains had started, peppering the roof heavily and driving them inside for the whole day…

It was hard to calm down.

Tomoe was once again brushing his hair, her strokes smooth and sure. It was comforting, but at the same time, he couldn’t avoid feeling that he needed to do something, anything. It was crawling inside his bones, a persistent annoyance that no scratching could ever cure.

Right behind him, he heard her sigh and then her clothes rustled as she laid down the brush. Disappointment flaring in his gut, Kenshin started to straighten, only to feel a soft, wet touch at the side of his neck.

It sent a jolt of energy running down his spine and he gasped, turning around like a startled deer. _What was that?_ He gaped at her, only to see her eyes far closer than he ever imagined seeing them as she leaned closer and kissed him on the corner of his mouth.

He froze.

Eyes wide as saucers, his heart thundered in his ribcage as the realization dawned. _She is kissing me?_

She pulled back a little, meeting his gaze hesitantly. “…I’m sorry.”

Her lips were so close, so wet and inviting, and Kenshin stared, struggling to focus. She was frowning, shying away…

_...Why is she frowning?_

She shouldn’t frown or hesitate! It didn’t suit her! In a mad fit of courage, Kenshin reached upwards to kiss her in return.

It was an odd sensation, to feel her lips against his and he had no idea what he should do, but when her mouth parted and her hand rose to his cheek, it seemed entirely natural to lean in to explore. It was wet and messy… but it felt good.

Her fingers slipped into his hair to pull him closer. His hands mirrored hers, and it felt _right_.

Every now and then, he would pull back just enough to gulp for breath or she would do the same, but then they would dive back in, drinking each other’s taste, inhaling the same breath, exploring each other’s mouths, tongue, discovering how best to move their lips, how best to fit together, to get even closer. It was almost like they were melding into one another and it was _amazing_.

It felt so good that it turned the restlessness crawling inside his bones to liquid fire, warming him right down to his core worse than any hot bath ever could. His pulse was racing, his breath was growing deeper, sweat was starting to glisten on his skin… For the first time in his life, it felt like he was _alive._

The moment was so overwhelming, so good that he couldn’t think… just do.

Her arms had snaked their way around his torso, pulling him close and he did the same. The heat was rising, fogging everything and clothes? Why were they wearing clothes in this heat? She was so close to him, her lips were so wonderful and her eyes were so huge right there in front of him, magnificent as a starry sky, and her ki was warm. It was becoming almost unbearable, the fire flowing down his belly, and it ached, oh god, it ached… until it just _burst._

Kenshin gasped, pulling away for a bit, trying desperately to catch his breath. _What..? What was that?_

Her eyes were almost disappointed as she tilted her head in question, wiping her chin with her sleeve. But there was a pretty blush coloring her cheeks and her lips were redder than any rouge could make them, red with life.

 _But, but… what had_ that _been?_

_What happened?_

Then he finally felt the wetness spreading in his lap, seeping into his kimono and he froze, mortification hitting him like a slap in the face.

“…What is it?” she asked, her tone full of concern.

He turned away, heat spreading down his cheeks to his neck. _Oh no... No! This can’t be happening…_

Where was the nearest hole in the ground for him to hide in? No, he needed more than that – he needed to find the deepest pit on earth to crawl into and never return. Kenshin covered his face with his hands, shame and guilt flooding his veins. _No, this can’t be true. Not right now, not in front of her, no, no, no…_

“Kenshin, talk to me. What is it?”

 _I can’t do this, not now. Not ever!_ She would laugh at him, think him weird and freakish. This kind of thing only happened to young boys! “I gotta go.” He shrugged out of her touch, and holding his kimono sleeves in front of his lap, dashed out of the door into the rain.

 

* * *

 

Maybe he should have thought through his actions further, because returning back inside, wearing his freshly washed clothing that were already soaked from the rain _–_ it seemed an impossible task. What must she think of him, after he had run away from her like that? With absolutely no explanation?  

He ki was inside the house, steady and lukewarm. He could see a light shining through the window screen. She was most likely writing in her diary.

But how could he go back in now… when he had never felt so embarrassed in his life?

She had been so beautiful, with that flush on her face, and it had felt amazing to kiss her. He hadn’t even hesitated! It had been so perfect… before _that_.

Kenshin sighed and shuffled his feet.

No matter how tempting, he couldn’t stay out here either. He was already shivering from the cool rain and if he stayed out any longer, he would surely catch a cold and that would inconvenience her like nothing before. Did he really want to force her to look after him, having gotten sick from his own stupidity?

Gritting his teeth, he shook his head, and steeling his resolve, stepped inside.

Tomoe glanced up from her diary, but didn’t rise to meet him. Worse, her eyes matched her ki; they were cool and hurt.

 _I really messed up – badly._ Kenshin swallowed. But, what could he say to her?

Even after all this, he didn’t know. So finally, he headed to the clothing chest in the corner and dug up towels and a change of clothing. Without looking back, he undressed and dried off hastily, before pulling on his spare yukata.

The faint scribbling sound recommenced behind him. She had started writing again…. _Is she going to let the matter drop?_

Somehow, that made him feel like even more of a failure.

She wasn’t even going to ask, even though his actions had hurt her feelings.

“I’m sorry for leaving like that,” Kenshin finally managed to whisper, staring at his feet and feeling utterly miserable.

Her tone was calm, but almost cold as she murmured, “Thank you for your apology.”

He cringed.

While she had accepted his apology, that wasn’t exactly a good sign. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing, he truly wasn’t. But what could he do? Kenshin glanced at her. She had been so perfect, while he had shown her exactly how much of a fuck up he really was, but…

Hesitantly, he made his way to her and sat by her side, just a step away from her. She stopped writing, but didn’t turn around.

That was okay.

It was almost better this way. He knew she would listen, but he didn’t need to face her. Closing his eyes, Kenshin took a deep breath and then, tried to find the words, “I… I, ah… you were wonderful. That kissing, it was like the best thing that has ever happened to me, it felt so good, but... but…”

She turned to look over her shoulder. “But…?”

“I, ah – I don’t know why, but I just… came.”

“Oh…”

“That shouldn’t happen to a grown man. Not so fast or sudden like that, I think, but…” Kenshin looked aside awkwardly, feeling shame churning in his stomach.

A small coughing sound erupted from her and he looked up, his eyes widening in mortified disbelief. She was covering her mouth with her hands, her coughing sounds strengthening enough to turn into _giggles_.

_...She is giggling?_

_At this?_

Kenshin gaped, utterly floored. Sure, usually he delighted in her happiness, in every bit of laughter or hint of a smile he could draw out of her. They were so rare, like a shooting star, vanishing just as fast and all the more precious for it, but this, this was… If he had thought he felt embarrassed before, it was nothing compared to this feeling. It was like someone was squeezing the breath out of him and crushing whatever little self-confidence he had left.

He couldn’t say if he made a sound, but suddenly she stopped and looked at him with wide eyes, her lips parted in stunned realization.

“Oh, Kenshin… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She blushed and raised her hand to his left cheek, tilting his face so that she could see his eyes. “Kenshin, it’s all right. There isn’t anything wrong with it. I was hurt because I didn’t know why you left. I thought…”

Her soft tone, and quiet words calmed something in him, just enough that he felt like he could breathe again.

“I thought that you didn’t like it, or that I had done something wrong, hurt you in some way.” She paused, her eyes full of hesitation. “Or perhaps, I was touching you when you didn’t want me to and you couldn’t stand it anymore, because I know you don’t like anyone touching you and you do your best to keep people at a distance…”

 _…Huh?_  Kenshin blinked. _She was worried about hurting me?_ “No… I, ah – well, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

They stared at each other in silence.

After a moment, she finally exhaled in relief, “Thank goodness.” She sagged slightly and let her hand drop from his cheek. However, before he could think of anything to say, she raised her gaze and tilted her head, like she was considering something. “Then, maybe next time we should take it a bit slower?”

“Next time?!” Kenshin squeaked. _There is going to be one?_

“Well… yes,” she stammered, blushing slightly. “It’s what married people do, right?”

 

* * *

 

Somehow his lingering fears started to fade after that. It seemed that no matter how much of a failure he was or what mistakes he made, she _still_ wanted him.

It made him feel better about himself, truly.

What was even better was that for the next few evenings, they had dared to explore each other a bit more with simple touching and kissing, and it had been really nice.

However, the last time that Tomoe had gone to the village, she had mentioned that the talk about them – and more specifically, him – was getting something of a nasty tint. After all, a young man, staying on his farm, doing nothing, didn’t exactly invite pleasant talk. The solution to the dilemma was obvious, of course. They needed to start selling the medicines Iizuka-san had brought them a few weeks ago.

A little bit reluctantly, Kenshin finally opened the medicine chest and rummaged through it, trying to make sense of the parcels and boxes filled with different herbs. He couldn’t even consider selling medicine he knew nothing about. Thankfully, on the back of each package there were written descriptions, detailing its purpose and what would be an appropriate price for it. It seemed that the chest was put together knowing that the recipient didn’t have the slightest clue of how to go about the apothecary business.

The problem was that he wasn’t at all familiar with over half the letters in the advice. He knew how to read, yes… but only the most common letters. While Master had enjoyed writing, after Kenshin had learned enough to get by, the lessons had winded to a halt. It had been perfectly fine – after all, swordsmanship had been far more important.

It was somewhat embarrassing to confess this to Tomoe and ask for her help – and like he feared, it made it really obvious that he was no samurai. So finally, after a bit of consideration, Kenshin told her about Katsura-san’s deception, too.

“I had wondered,” Tomoe said after a small pause. “It’s just, there are these curious gaps in your manner, like you know something, but occasionally you become uncertain and follow other people’s leads.”  

Well, it was true enough. She really was a perceptive woman.

It was no surprise that she was perfectly capable of reading everything on the packages, and so they studied the medicines together.

Not long after that, they began to visit the village and the nearby houses to sell the medicines.

It was a relief to have her by his side, truly. Whenever he would hesitate, he could glance at her for subtle advice and draw strength from her quiet confidence. After the sales, they would discuss what could have gone better. And while it wasn’t exactly easy for him, he had always been a fast learner. So mainly, the biggest difficulties were approaching strangers, because after he got to know people, he could relax a bit and focus on sales.   

What was somewhat of a surprise to Kenshin was that their house was not nearly as secluded as he had thought. They had quite a few neighbors within a couple miles’ radius and most of them had children.

Whenever they would see a brood of little ones playing in the yard, Tomoe would stop to stare at them sadly.

It was curious enough that eventually he asked about it. She told him quietly that she enjoyed children’s enthusiasm and their ability to find joy in simple things. He didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t spent time with children in ages, not since he had been their age, to be perfectly honest. But watching the kids play, they seemed to act like she said, happy and enthusiastic. Innocent, in a way.

Maybe, if she enjoyed looking after children… something could be done? The kids didn’t seem to have anyone but their siblings to watch over them, so perhaps their parents wouldn’t be opposed to a trusted lady watching over their play? Maybe it would be possible to have kids from all over the neighborhood to come over and play together?

It was a thought. Kenshin didn’t have the slightest idea of how to make it happen, but it was something to remember.

In any case, he was starting to get used to the new job and had even taken to visiting the village with Tomoe on her shopping trips. It was nice to travel with her and he delighted in helping her, if in no other manner than carrying her purchases – or buying her gifts. Just yesterday, he had seen a nice handheld mirror and bargained for it fervently, because it would be just perfect for her. She was so very refined and seeing her own reflection would make it easier for her to arrange her hair and put rouge on her lips.

She had blushed prettily when he had given it to her, which had made it well worth the expense. He loved making her happy. She deserved all the happiness he could ever give to her.

Though as nice as it was to accompany her, the villagers still stared at them and whispered behind their hands whenever they visited. But their glances didn’t seem quite as wary anymore. It was like the people were finally coming to realize that while he was somewhat odd-looking, he wasn’t dangerous and that he had a proper profession. That all in all: “The Himuras are quiet, but they are honest, hardworking people.”

It had felt good, to hear that. In the eyes of everyone around them they were a married couple.

So they settled into a nice, comfortable routine – weekly sales trip to sell medicines, housework, looking after their field and spending time together. With the constant rains and all, it had become natural to spend the time by touching, kissing and exploring each other.

The fire was crackling merrily in the fire pit, bathing the whole house in soft light, and they had settled on Tomoe’s bed, sitting side by side, just kissing. It wasn’t the sloppy and messy sort of hungry kisses of their first time, but a calm, relaxed closeness. Feeling each other’s lips and sharing each other’s warmth, finding enjoyment in simple touch.

There was heat pooling in his veins, but it wasn’t overflowing – merely a steady desire.

Tomoe had a slight flush on her skin and her eyes were half-lidded, her gaze soft. However, when they parted once again to draw breath, she placed her hand to his chest to keep him still.

He blinked in surprise, but didn’t panic. She had done this before and it wasn’t a rejection or protest, just a silent request for a break. They had gotten better at giving these signals to each other, not engaging in such gross misunderstandings as in the very beginning.

Then she slipped her hands behind her back, to untie her obi… and he couldn’t help but tense up. Before he could voice his protest, she glanced up at him and pressed a finger to his lips. “Please, I want to try something… just tell me if it’s too much.”

Kenshin bit his lip, nervousness stirring.

Still, despite his wariness, he was a bit curious. Nudity wasn’t an issue in itself – they lived together, and while it was polite not to look when the other was changing clothing or bathing, they had seen flashes of each other. It was unavoidable, really.

Yet until now, it had been an unspoken rule to keep their clothes on while kissing. He desperately hoped that she wasn’t expecting them to... do _that_. The thing that all men talked about after their visits to brothels. He just didn’t think he could, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself again by failing miserably. Even now, it felt like every little thing she did could rouse the liquid fire in his veins, and it would pool downwards uncontrollably and burst at the most inopportune moment without his say so. It made a horrible mess and ended things too early, every single time.

She folded her obi nicely and set it aside, then rose to her feet, letting her kimono fall off her shoulders. Her breast were bare, and the only thing she was wearing was her underskirt.

Kenshin swallowed and looked to the side, not entirely sure whether it was okay to watch. He heard her fold her kimono as well. Then she knelt next to him and whispered gently in his ear, “You can look.”  

Her eyes were hooded and her arm drawn across her chest was the only thing covering her milky white breasts…  she was _beautiful_.

“Uh…” he mumbled dazedly, his pulse picking up speed as his mind blanked on anything even remotely appropriate to say. “Um…”

There was a little spark of mischief in her eyes and she leaned forward, boldly taking his hand and guiding it to her breast.

He hesitated.

_….Um, well, if she wants it?_

Tentatively he trailed the tips of his fingers on her skin. The sensation was impossible to describe, it wasn’t like anything he had ever felt – her full breasts were so soft, round, almost bouncy. They would fit perfectly in his hands.

Her cheeks were flushed and a tiny gasp escaped her lips as his fingers found her nipple. He tensed slightly, ready to stop but as he glanced up, her gaze was inviting and her ki felt as warm as a summer day.

_Does that mean she likes this?_

There was a growing curiosity stirring inside him, and he moved to the other breast, leaning closer. He glanced up at her once between his lashes hoping for some sign… yet she didn’t say a thing, merely waited, ready and willing, allowing him the freedom to explore.

Slowly he licked her nipple.

She gasped, demanding boldly, “Do that again.”

Given such a clear prompt, he did so – and she rewarded him with another gasp. She truly seemed to like it and he grew bolder, daring to suckle on her breast, and she _moaned._

It spurred him further, this insane boldness growing inside him, born out of his pride in pleasing her so obviously. He moved back to the left breast, carefully fondling her right one with his hand.

She was so sensitive, that even the slightest of his touches could draw sounds he hadn’t even heard from her, sweet noises that he couldn’t get enough of.  

It was becoming a really, really nice game to figure out all the ways to make her gasp and moan. He wanted to please her, wanted to see to her enjoyment, and this, this right here was an _amazing_ way to make it happen.

A sheen of sweat had formed on her skin, the flush of her cheeks had spread downwards to her neck, almost to her chest. Maybe she too could feel the liquid fire that plagued him during their intimate moments? Before, on the evenings they had spent kissing and touching, she had been so calm and collected, and though she had obviously liked it, she hadn’t had this sort of a reaction.

Could he find a way to make the liquid fire erupt in her? What form would it take? He was curious. He knew women were different, but it would be unfair if they couldn’t feel similar things during these moments as men did…

“Kenshin, wait – wait a moment,” she gasped breathlessly.

Pulled out of his thoughts, he looked up, a bit disappointed, if he was perfectly honest. He would have liked to continue, to try to figure it out…

Yet, whatever she wanted, he would give her. Sighing softly, he straightened, taking time to study her. She looked amazing: flushed red with life, sweating and breathing deeply, trying to catch her breath.

A warmth was spreading in his chest that was more than just desire, more than just satisfaction, no, this feeling couldn’t be anything less than what people called love. This was a woman he loved, his wife – and he had brought out these feelings in her.

He smiled in pride.

He wanted to do it again, to figure out a way to bring her over the edge… but how? That was the question. He frowned slightly, tilting his head.

Her breasts were his new favorite, he decided, right after her expressive and beautiful dark eyes. Her nipples stood tall in the cool air, perky and reddened from his ministrations, glistening with his saliva.

It was a really nice sight.

Her breathing was steadying, he noted hesitantly. Would she want to retire for the night already? It was getting quite late, but… it would have been nice to play a bit longer, that’s all.

These new discoveries were wonderful, and playing with her breasts, he didn’t have to worry about the liquid fire erupting in him, but instead, he could make _her_ feel really good. It was the best thing ever. He could get happiness and satisfaction just by pleasing her and there was nothing for him to embarrass himself with.

Cloth rustled by his side and he glanced at her. She was inching closer to him…. _Ah, back to kissing?_ _Well, I can do that, too._

Like she often did, she slipped her hand into his hair, but instead of pulling him closer, she leaned backwards slowly, determinately, leading him onto the bed with her. He tensed, eyeing the bed with suspicion. But touching her breasts had been really nice, so maybe she just wanted to lie down, before allowing him to play some more?

Settling on his side, he tried his best to calm down, to allow her this whim.

Her eyes seemed hesitant as she stared at him, before she took ahold of his hand and guided it to her stomach... no, lower? She slipped their hands under the waistband of her underskirt, right between her legs.

His breath hitched. He wasn’t at all sure about this, but…

Then he felt the _wetness_.

There was a slippery wetness between her legs, and it was all over the soft folds of skin, just below the curls of hair. His eyes widened at the realization. She had already come? No, she would have told him if that was the case. And while she had been enjoying herself, it hadn’t seemed anywhere close to the overpowering feeling he felt when the liquid fire erupted. Maybe women were just different?

Frowning, he met her eyes, noting the hint of anticipation in her gaze and then, her nimble fingers took hold of his forefinger and _… oh, so that’s her center?_ The women’s cavern – every man he had ever heard talk dirty agreed that slipping inside it was the best feeling in the world.

“Careful…” she whispered into his ear. “It’s really sensitive there.”

Kenshin nodded in understanding. Seeing how licking and suckling at her breast had made her moan, this had to be far more tender spot. Carefully, he tried to move his finger inside the wet, slippery heat. He could easily imagine just how good it would feel against his most sensitive skin… but all it took was the tiniest touch to make him come, he knew. So how could he ever endure this tight, wet warmth? Besides, it wasn’t like he would ever dare suggest such a thing to her.

Pushing his finger in and out tentatively, he frowned in thought. While this felt nice, it wasn’t making her gasp or moan like before. There just wasn’t much he could do like this, all he could do was to move in or out, or…

He curled his finger inside her, testing an idea and she gasped.

_Huh. So it is good, or…?_

Again, he curled his finger upwards, stroking her more determinedly this time and she moaned low, an earthy sound that set off the butterflies inside his stomach. So there _was_ a difference. Hmm, it was something to think on, but still, it wasn’t like it was all that difficult to stroke her, and her breasts were just there, bare and inviting.

He glanced at her, a question in his eyes.

She was watching him, her gaze half-lidded with excitement, her cheeks flushed prettily.

_Maybe she won’t mind? She didn’t mind it earlier…_

So boldly, he leaned forward and licked her nipple, enjoying the surprised gasp it tore from her. Suckling daringly, he prompted another moan. Yes, that was better – he grinned in satisfaction. Keeping his finger moving, pumping her core steadily, stroking her gently, he returned to suckling her nipples.

She fell onto her back, staring at the ceiling as she bared her throat, gasping for air. Her moans filled the silence of the cottage as he continued to tease her, her fingers curling tight on the bedding, seeking something to hang on to. The sweat on her skin was rising, the flush spreading nicely, and the noises she made were like music to his ears.

And when he dared to slip another finger into her hole?

Her moaning became a steady constant and she started to writhe, tensing up and then, the sweetest sound ever rose from her lips, this low and almost breathless whisper, “Nhh… Kenshiin…”

Her cavern pulsed around his fingers, wetness flooding from her center, and like a puppet with its string cut, she fell onto her back, unwound, as the tension fled her body.

 _So that’s what it looks like for her…_ Kenshin grinned happily, and drew his hand away from her center and dried his fingers on his wide sleeves. He sat up gingerly, mindful of the constant, aching pressure in his loins. The heat was there, ready to flare up, but it was nothing compared to this feeling of achievement – he had managed to make her come. It roused a pride in him, a steady certainty that he had done well, managing to please her so completely, so utterly, just like a proper husband should please his wife.  

Laying there, spent, she looked really, really lovely. He smiled, “I love seeing you like this… you are beautiful.”

A small gasping laughter rose from her lips and she opened her eyes, reaching for his hand.

There was no words to describe how good it felt.

 

* * *

 

The heavy rainfall confined them to the house pretty effectively. Not that it was a bad thing, especially now that he had a new fascination to explore. It felt like he couldn’t get enough of it, really. He just loved watching her come. It had gotten so that he wanted to pleasure her every day, and she was kind enough to accommodate his enthusiasm.

She really was a wonderful woman.

However, as nice as it was to spend those days together, there were also problems. The constant rain and the nights growing colder were terrible for their field. It was just too wet, and each day when Kenshin went to check on their vegetables, he saw them growing worse and worse. Many were suffering, their leaves browning or wilting and curling downwards.

The worst of it was that he didn’t have the faintest idea how to fix it. The best he could do was to dig ditches in the field to drain most of the excess water, but when the rains continued, it just didn’t help enough.

It was disappointing.

No matter their best attempts, it truly started to seem like the field was a lost endeavor. Even Tomoe agreed with him as they morosely followed the situation.

Yet, he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He had known it would be an uphill battle, this late in the season, and they didn’t necessarily need it to work, but… it was their field and they had worked hard to make it this far. Maybe if rains would let up, the plants could still recover? It was nearly the tenth month, nearly winter already – the worst of the humidity should be be over soon, this high in the uplands.

It was one perfectly ordinary afternoon when Kenshin was yet again trying his best to drain away the water from the fields, when he felt a new presence approaching them. It was so small, barely noticeable… the only reason why he paid any attention to it was because of how fast it was approaching and how panicky it felt.

It was a child, Kenshin realized, watching a small form running on the road in their direction.

“Tomoe! Someone is coming!” he called out, standing up in alarm. A child running like that, feeling so afraid? It couldn’t be anything good. Closing his eyes, he focused, trying to feel… no, there was no other presences near them. No one was chasing the child. No animals were following them, either.

Yet, the child was running as fast as their tiny legs allowed, and yes, they were coming this way.

_What on earth?_

Now that they were getting closer, he saw it was a little girl – and she seemed familiar. His eyes widened in recognition. The girl was one of the neighbor's kids, little Aimi-chan who lived just few miles away from their house.

“Kenshin-san! Kenshin-san! You need to come quick!” the girl shouted at him, swerving to a halt right before him, her eyes wide with panic.

“What is it?” he asked worriedly, stepping closer but not sure how to comfort her.

She was holding her stomach, gasping desperately for breath. She had clearly run as fast as she could the whole way here.

The girl hiccuped, tear tracks running down her cheeks.

However, before he could do decide what to do, Tomoe walked over to them, kneeling right in front of the girl. Had she had heard his call? Or had she, too, seen the girl run to them? In either case, she hadn’t wasted a moment rushing over. She hadn’t even ditched the apron she wore while doing homework, nor taken off the scarf she never wore publicly.

“Calm down,” Tomoe said to girl gently, in her calm, collected tone as she stroked her shoulder comfortingly. “What happened?”

The girl’s panicky frenzy was winding down and she gulped for breath, raising her gaze to look at Tomoe, before turning to stare him, her eyes desperate. “Papa and brothers are sick.“

It took just that last word for Kenshin to blanch, his mind flashing to a time years ago when he had been a little boy… running to the doctor to beg for help just like this girl. His stomach lurched with dread, and all of a sudden he felt like throwing up. He wasn’t a doctor! He didn’t know anything about illnesses! What could he do, what could he say?

The girl sidestepped Tomoe and took a hold of his sleeve, just like he had grabbed Master’s sleeve once upon a time, and looked up at him, her huge eyes pleading, her tears flowing freely, “Please, Kenshin-san! You sell medicine, so you gotta have medicine to help them! Mama didn’t want me to come, but papa and my brothers are really sick. I don’t want to lose them! Please, Kenshin-san! You gotta come…”

It wasn’t a question of his willingness to help, but what could he do for them? His heart was beating wildly in his chest, and a cold sweat had risen on his back, the tiny hairs at the back of his neck standing up…

Tomoe glanced at him, before she reached out to cradle the girl’s cheek, turning the girl’s face to whisper to her gently, “Shhh, shhh… we will come and help with what we can, little one. Of course we will.”

 _We will?_ Kenshin stared at her blankly. Well, yes... At the very least they could give them the herbs they had in the medicine chest. And if it was a question of money, they would do so for free. After all, it wasn’t like their medicine stock had anything to do with their livelihood, but the rest…

_...How could I watch someone die of sickness, again?_

The girl was calming down bit by bit as Tomoe whispered to her comfortingly, her voice low and gentle. The tone was enough that he, too, finally managed to break past his rising panic and draw a good, deep breath. Closing his eyes, he drew another breath and exhaled slowly.

 _Yes, we will help._  

Swallowing dryly, he clenched his hands into fists and gathered his resolve. Now was not the time for panicking, for remembering old terrors. He wasn’t a tiny child who had seen his family die from cholera before his very eyes, but a man in his own right. Yes, for these people, he was the medicine seller and he better act like it.

He nodded at Tomoe and headed inside to gather the medicine chest.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 01.04.2016.


	12. Competence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, cunnilingus

# Chapter 25. Competence

 

Aimi-chan’s family didn’t live far, only about three miles south, Kenshin recalled. It was a relief, because while the girl was tired from her run, she had managed to walk fine on her own, albeit a bit slower than she would have wanted.

Perhaps they could have carried her, just to make haste… however, she wasn’t quite young enough for that to be proper. As a child of seven or eight years, she would have started her education, and started to help out with family duties. There were certain limits to what a stranger, no matter how well-intentioned, could and should do to help her, even in a situation like this.

Her family’s house was built very similarly to theirs, Kenshin couldn’t help but note. Mountains shadowed its back, fields surrounding the other three sides. Only one patch still had crops growing, but the plants were ready to be harvested – a stark difference to his own half-grown, half-drowned seedlings.  

 _We really were too late to try farming…_ Kenshin mused, frowning a bit. Despite the afternoon sun still being high in the sky, no one was taking advantage of the precious hours of daylight. Not one soul was outside, looking for the child who had run away…

_The sickness._

Kenshin shivered, dreading the very thought of stepping inside the silent house. How bad would it be?

_Hopefully not cholera… please, anything but cholera._

Before they could knock on the door, or announce their presence in any way, little Aimi-chan pushed the door open, and called out loudly, “Mama, mama! I got Kenshin-san to come! He came, he and Tomoe-san!”

“You foolish girl! You didn’t!” an older woman’s roughened voice all but growled, followed by heavy footsteps as Aimi-chan’s mother stepped out. She was not very tall nor very old, but her hair had strands of gray and her face was etched with deep lines around her mouth and eyes. A lifetime of hard work had worn all delicacy out of her. She was a true farmer’s wife, used to helping out in the fields when necessary.

And more than anything, she looked weary.

Kenshin had met her before, when they had come this way to sell medicines. Instantly he remembered why they hadn’t come back again. Her eyes were hard, full of judgement and wariness. She was looking at him like he was a snake in her garden patch, or a spider in her kitchen, something unpleasant and to be rid of quickly.

What was her name, again?

Her husband was Kichirou, if he remembered right. Aimi-chan he remembered well, because she had been so curious about him earlier. Kenshin paused, searching for that one word that just might be enough to lessen her distrust a bit… Oh, yes. That’s what it was. “Midori-san, your daughter told us that your family is sick?” Kenshin bowed politely, careful to keep his voice neutral. “We are here to offer our assistance.”

Not straightening yet, he waited, as was custom. If she wanted to turn down their offer just out of spite, she would have to do it in the harshest way possible.

Beside him, Kenshin felt Tomoe’s ki flickering with warmth and he spared her a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. She nodded at him in approval. So this was a correct choice, then? Maybe he was finally getting a hang of this kind of thing, approaching strangers and presenting matters correctly.

“It’s true,” the farmer’s wife sighed, her pugnacious wariness bleeding out of her, leaving behind true exhaustion. “Then, I will graciously accept your offer, Himura-san, Tomoe-san.”

Kenshin straightened, noting how she bowed in return. A hint less than he had? She didn’t trust him yet, then. But that was fine – veiled distrust was far better than open hatred.

She stood up and stepped aside, inviting them inside her house.

It turned out that her menfolk, her husband and both of her teenage sons, were all sick with fever. It was quite worrying. Fevers stole countless lives every year, but it was nothing unexpected given the season and heavy rainfall. All three of the men had worked hard harvesting the fields, and under duress had caught cold before they had finished the last one.

Thankfully, Kenshin’s medicine chest had herbs to reduce fever, and it was a common enough ailment that even he was familiar with the treatments.

So was Midori-san. She had already done her best to keep the men hydrated, feeding them broth and wiping their brows and chests with cool, wet cloth. However, she’d run out of herbs, and after three days of keeping watch over the sick, she had lost her temper when the fever had taken a bad turn that morning… so Aimi-chan had panicked, rushing to fetch him and Tomoe.

Though the situation wasn’t nearly as dire as he had feared, it seemed that their help was needed – if only to keep watch while Midori-san rested. Tomoe hadn’t had to work hard to convince the headstrong woman to gather a bunch of blankets and curl up in the corner to sleep. Midori-san had been on her last leg, truly.

Now, Kenshin was mixing some yarrow powder into tea. According to the medicine packets, it would help reduce fever.

Tomoe was wiping the youngest son's brow with a wet cloth, his fever still alarmingly high. He pushed a cup of tea to her, and helped her lift the boy up enough so that he could drink. Beside them, the oldest son was sleeping fitfully, but for him the worst seemed to be over.

Aimi-chan was following them around curiously. She had already helpfully informed them that the boys were named Ichirou and Noburou.

It was a given, of course, that the oldest son was named Ichirou. The name literally meant _first son_. Kenshin shook his head in dry amusement, turning to check on the farmer, Kichirou-san. His fever wasn’t too high anymore, but he had started to develop a rather worrying cough.

 _There should be something to treat that, too…_ Kenshin frowned, going back to rummage through the medicine chest. He couldn’t even tell how thankful he was that their ailments were so common, so ordinary. No matter the unpleasant smell of old sweat, the unmistakable scent of sickness lingering in the air, this he knew how to handle.

Aimi-chan followed everything he did, her eyes guileless as she peppered him with questions.

It felt somewhat strange.

Why had she glued herself to his side? Hadn’t she already looked to Tomoe for comfort? Well, yeah, she had… when she had been afraid. But now that her father and brothers were getting help and the situation seemed to be under control, Aimi-chan didn’t have anything to hold back her natural curiosity about his oddities.

Somehow, he didn’t know why, Kenshin found himself indulging her with answers of the most meaningless nature. Yes, he was Japanese. Yes, his hair was red. Yes, it had always been red. He didn’t know why, it just was. Yes, his skin and eyes were really pale and yes, he knew he looked weird. Yes, he was short… and yes, he was old enough to be an adult and yes, he was married to the pretty lady Tomoe.

It was _exasperating._

But little Aimi-chan was just a child and didn’t know better. It wasn’t like he could get angry at her. Besides, with Tomoe’s calming presence at his side, knowing that she wanted him and appreciated him as her husband, the little girl’s rude prying just didn’t matter. Before, yes, he would have gotten defensive. He would have gotten downright angry… but now, what did it matter if people thought him odd? He was odd, but Tomoe liked him anyway.

So patiently, Kenshin answered every question, until her well of curiosity ran dry… and the girl paused, staring at him with large, guileless eyes. “Kenshin-san, you _are_ odd – but nice.”

Kenshin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

The girl _giggled_ at him. “You don’t get mad no matter what I ask and you explain things so that I can understand them,” she explained enthusiastically, reaching to hug him. “I really like you, Kenshin-san!”

Within her tight grip, he was flabbergast, totally at loss for how to react.

A tiny coughing sound came from behind him. _A laugh..?_ Kenshin glanced at Tomoe over his shoulder, a slightly betrayed look on his face.

Aimi-chan burst into uncontrollable giggles, letting go of him to wrap her arms around her stomach. “The look... on your face,” she managed to wheeze between her hilarity.

Tomoe’s ki warmed up, too, her eyes softening with affection.

Kenshin scoffed and looked aside, trying to hide the heat rising on his cheeks. Curse his pale skin. It showed his embarrassment no matter what he did. Yet, no matter how awkward it was, it wasn’t bad to hear them laugh. Maybe it was even a good thing? It wasn’t like it hurt anyone.

Rubbing his reddened face, he huffed fondly and returned to his task.

A smile wormed its way onto his lips, too.

 

* * *

 

They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening caring for the sick, helping as best they could. It was nightfall when Midori-san woke up from her exhausted slumber. Tiredly, she set more tea to boil before saying gruffly, “You two might as well stay the night. It’s too dark to travel.”  

There wasn’t much Kenshin could say to argue with the statement. While he could have made the trip alone, it would be difficult for Tomoe. Besides, both of them were still quite worried about the boys. The youngest son’s fever had yet to break.

So Midori showed them to a corner where they could sleep and gave them a few blankets. Tomoe accepted her offerings graciously. She seemed tired, truly. But as they set the blankets down, using a couple of them as a makeshift mattress, she glanced at him worriedly, inclining her head to Midori-san, who was settling down near the fire pit’s waning light, keeping watch over her family… and finally, Kenshin realized that they might have a problem.

He felt tired enough to sleep, yes. But this was far from the comfortable safety of their own house. Harmless as he thought Midori-san to be, she and her family were still people sharing the same space as him. But there was no way he could decline the offer to stay any more, now could he? And what if the youngest boy’s fever worsened during the night? What if Midori-san needed more help?

Kenshin tensed, the trap of social obligations and the situation starting to choke him. Forcing himself to stay calm, he drew a blanket around his shoulders and leaned his back against the solid wall.

In silence, Tomoe sat next to him, close enough to be there for him, but not touching him… nor blocking his escape routes.

He noted it all, a hint of shame twisting his gut.

She had learned to live with his issues. And while he was grateful for her acceptance, the calm way she dealt with it… none of this was normal. He wasn’t normal.

But it was what it was.

Midori-san made a good attempt at ignoring them, but every now and then he caught her covert glances.

It made him wish he had his sword cradled against his shoulder, something safe for his hands to hold on to. An impossible wish, of course. For these people, he was a medicine seller, not a swordsman. Yet, it felt like something essential was missing. Tiredness tugged at his eyelids, luring him to close his eyes, but the ki presences around him, the crackling of fire, the rustle of cloth as Midori-san changed position spurred on the restlessness inside him, an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

He knew he needed to fall asleep.

It was expected of him. It was expected of every normal person after a difficult day. But how could he sleep when he felt like crawling out of his skin?

The worry that this wasn’t ever going to work was brewing inside him, ready to flare up into full blown certainty, when Tomoe slipped her hand out from the cocoon of her blanket and grabbed his hand, squeezing it... slipping her fingers between his.

Her eyes were tainted with worry.

Then, slowly, she started to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb.

It was an idle motion, but for some reason, it felt comforting. Kenshin inhaled deeply, trying to ignore the noises, the flickering ki presences of the others in the house. They were simple farmers, not a threat. They were his neighbors and they owed him and Tomoe a debt of gratitude…

Tomoe was breathing steadily. She had closed her eyes and her face was relaxed, yet she continued to stroke his hand with steady motions, up and down, up and down, ever so gentle and consistent. In the waning light she looked so beautiful that something in his chest _ached_.

_My wife, my beautiful, wonderful wife… always there by my side._

Gods, he loved her so much that it hurt.

…And her thumb continued its idle motions on his skin.

Kenshin closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on that feeling, on her familiar, warm ki presence, her steady breathing.

She was there for him. There was no threat. And he was tired. The sounds of her breathing, the steady warmth by his side, the safety of her ki that felt like nothing less than home…

_My wife._

It was almost _easy_ to fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Kenshin woke up feeling disgruntled and confused. There were a lot of presences around him, there were cooking noises and mumbling talk… _Where am I?_ Kenshin blinked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The house looked similar, but it was decidedly not theirs. Panic flared inside him, until he felt Tomoe’s familiar and comforting presence.

Then his memories aligned. _Oh, so this is our neighbor's house?_

Tomoe was there, holding up a boy lying on his back, helping him eat. The boy was Noburou, the family’s youngest son, who had been so very sick yesterday.

However, the rest of the family was gathered around the firepit to eat, Midori-san handing a bowl of broth to her husband, Kishirou-san, and then to the oldest son, Ichirou… _Huh._

“You are awake!” An enthusiastic face popped up right in front of him, smiling wildly. “Finally! I waited so looooong! Here, I helped to make breakfast for you, Kenshin-san!”

Dazedly he accepted the bowl and chopsticks she pushed into his hands, too stunned for words.

For a while he stared at the simple miso and rice, before finally starting to eat. _Why am I this out of it?_ However, food was food, and he was hungry… Come to think of it, he and Tomoe had skipped last evening's dinner entirely, hadn’t they? They had been so busy taking care of the sick, they had forgotten to even ask about the possibility of food.

_Well, no wonder…_

“Morning dear,” Tomoe greeted him softly, kneeling by his side and whispering into his ear with a low voice. “You slept so fitfully that I thought it best to let you sleep as long as you could.”

Kenshin nodded gratefully. To be perfectly truthful, he was a little amazed that he had managed to sleep _at all_ surrounded by strangers.

It was a difficulty Tomoe certainly didn’t share. Even now, not a hint of shadow ringed her eyes. No, she looked as calm and serene as always. She glanced at their neighbors, gathered to eat breakfast together, and in particular, at one enthusiastic little girl waving at them.

“We should join them,” she murmured softly.

“Yes,” he agreed, handing her his half empty bowl for a moment so he could slip out of his nest of blankets.

She followed his actions, shaking her head fondly before rising to her feet and heading to the fire pit. Their neighbors eagerly made room for her, even the gruff Midori-san greeting her warmly.

“Kenshin-san! Kenshin-san, come and eat! There is plenty left for you!” little Aimi-chan shouted invitingly, drawing half-amused, half-exasperated looks from her family.

“You found a new target? Sweet,” the oldest son, Ichirou, scoffed, “for once you aren’t bugging me, little terror.”

“I’m not a terror!” the little girl denied cheerfully as she dashed over to Kenshin, grabbing his hand boldly and pulling him up to join them.

Unable to contain his smile, Kenshin huffed and allowed himself to be dragged over to join the polite company. Before he had time to think twice, he was sitting next to Tomoe and had a full bowl in his hands.

Ichirou was sitting across from him, eyeing him with slight distrust. He was a young teenager, maybe 12 or so years old – a child, still, no matter the wiriness of his shoulders and the roughness of his hands. No doubt he helped his father in the fields daily. Despite his paleness, he was in a lot better health than yesterday.

Apparently the yarrow mixture in his tea had broken his fever.

The same could be said of his father. The farmer, Kichirou-san, still had a persistent cough and he seemed weary, but he didn’t seem feverish or delirious anymore. It was a relief. If he took it easy for a few days, he would definitely make it.

Only the youngest son, Noburou was still battling with the remnants of his fever, but even he was not quite as bad as he had been last night, or so Midori-san informed him with a certain softness in her gruff manner.

No, the worst was over now and the whole family seemed grateful for their help.

However, the breakfast and the tea that followed it were good for conversation and given how new Kenshin and Tomoe were to the area and how they hadn’t spoken much with anyone… it didn’t take much to rouse the family’s curiosity. After a few rounds of idle chitchat, they finally got to the topic of farming.

“So I gather that you are new to farming, Kenshin-san?” Kichirou-san asked with a pointed look.

Kenshin felt the heat rising on his cheeks and looked aside. “Well, yes…” he murmured, “I just wanted to try it after we moved here. No matter how few plants would make it, they would be something to store for winter.”

“A worthy idea, but I doubt your crops will survive.” Kichirou-san smiled, a shadow of his usual jovial mood. “The rainfall was unusually heavy this year. I hurried to pull out my own, which of course got us into this pinch.“

“I have tried to drain the excess water from the field, but the leaves have already browned,” Kenshin explained. “I don’t know what else I can do, to be perfectly truthful.”

“There is not much else you can do,” Kichirou rumbled. “Keep at it. Maybe it will stave off the worst of the rot, until the rains let up.”

“Say, Tomoe-san…” Midori-san said, joining in the conversation, “I hear that you are newlyweds.”

Tomoe nodded politely. “That’s right; we were married right before moving here, at the end of summer.”

“Is there cause to offer congratulations for children? I remember it didn’t take us too long to have Ichirou.” Midori-san smiled, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

At his side, Tomoe stiffened in surprise, her ki sharpening all of the sudden.

He too felt stunned by the question, but then again… wasn’t it typical for married people to have children?

 _…But Tomoe and I, we haven’t even thought about it,_ Kenshin realized, his eyes snapping wide open. It wasn’t that he didn’t know why. With war on the horizon, with the Ishin Shishi, the rebellion and everything else, the concept of children was so far out of the realm of possibility that it hadn’t even crossed his mind.  

“The times are difficult and we are yet young,“ Tomoe said calmly, her ki gaining a frostier shade… but her voice was sad?

He glanced up at her, caught by the idea. A family of his own, a family with her – it was a tantalizing thought, so sweet and perfect, if utterly terrifying in its wonder. That sadness of hers, there was no doubt that she yearned for a family, too. But even if they wanted to, it wasn’t a possibility, not until the war was over, until the Ishin Shishi didn’t need him… and how long would that take? Months? Years? An eternity?

He swallowed, something thick and bitter rising to block his throat.

It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t… but it was what it was. He had almost forgotten the reality of why they were living here in the countryside, but the fact was, he was committed to the Ishin Shishi’s cause. When the call came, he would have to answer, no matter how badly it broke his heart.

Tomoe looked at him with serious eyes, her sadness hidden behind her eyes, just under the surface. She too had forgotten the war and the rebellion.

An awkward silence fell.

“Kenshin-san! What does your name mean?” A bright voice cut through the veil of silence like knife through melted butter. “My name means lovely beauty.” Aimi-chan grinned, her eyes guileless. Clearly, for her, a pause in adult conversation clearly meant a chance for her to introduce her own topic.

For a second Kenshin wasn’t sure how to react to the question. It came out of the blue, tactless and even rude… but at the same time, Aimi-chan was so innocent and joyful that it was impossible to resist her curiosity for long. And truthfully, it would be good to talk of less serious matters. “That’s good name. It suits you.” He murmured after the slightest of pauses, struggling to pull on a smile. He too had liked the meanings of names when he had been young. “My name is written with _sword_ and _heart_.”

“Oh? That’s unusual.” Kichirou raised his brow. “I would have assumed it was _modest truth._ That’s a far more common name.”

“Errr…” Kenshin stammered, but didn’t continue despite the obvious prompt.

Kichirou-san was right in his remark, thought. It wasn’t typical to start a name, nevertheless the name of a commoner, with such a harsh word as _sword_. But then again, Kenshin liked his name. It was one of the last ties he had to Master, and even now it meant a lot to him…and privately, he even thought it suited him. A lot better than Shinta did, at times. He was far from the gentle soul he had been as a child. Not that he could tell any of that to these people. These days, he was supposed to be just a medicine seller.

Midori-san was frowning at him, clearly deep in thought. Had his thoughtless words roused her suspicions again?  

“Aimi-chan is a nice name,” Tomoe murmured, joining in the conversation. “However, I am curious why it is so different from the boys’ names?”

Midori-san blinked, turning to look at her, but seeing the comment was not in criticism, she scoffed in amusement. “I let my dear husband here name the boys against my better judgement. I should have known this big lump here would choose such a ridiculous theme.”

“Hey, it’s a time honored tradition!” the farmer protested.

“So it is.” Midori-san smiled, shaking her head, before reaching to stroke her daughter's hair. “However, when Aimi was born, I had to put my foot down and pick a sensible name for my little girl.”

Which of course spurred protests from both of them, little Aimi-chan for having her hair messed up, and Kichirou vehemently arguing that it was far stranger to have an obvious hiccup in a naming theme than a girl with the name _first daughter_. The oldest son followed the argument with an exasperated air, like he had heard it a thousand times.

It was amusing to follow their quarreling, especially when the kids started shooting off their own remarks, stirring up the mess the best they could. In the chaos, Kenshin and Tomoe were left naturally as spectators, but it wasn’t awkward at all. No, somehow, it was nice to see people who were so down to earth and just _happy_ together.

They left their neighbors’ house that afternoon, when the second son Noburou finally seemed to be on the mend. His fever had broken and he had woken up enough to eat.

Kenshin left the family a package of fever reducing yarrow mix just in case, reminding them not to take any chances. When it came to payment, Midori-san had offered money to him discreetly as they were leaving.

He declined the offer and said, “It’s enough that your family will get better.”

“I see.” Midori-san nodded thoughtfully, “Then you have my gratitude, Himura-san.” She grimaced, and slipped her light coin purse back into her sleeve. “The year has been difficult. I suspect that won’t change for quite some time.”  

“That’s true,” he murmured, glancing at Tomoe. She was following Aimi-chan, who was showing her something in the yard, a distinct warmth in her ki.

“Aimi-chan could use an example of proper behavior for a young lady,” Midori-san remarked after a while.

“Tomoe likes children.” Kenshin noted in answer, an idea resurfacing from the back of his mind. He paused, wetting his lips. “You could send the kids to our place when you want peace and quiet. It would be no trouble for us to look after them.”

Midori-san raised her brow, looking him once over. “I think we could do that. Thank you, Kenshin-san.”

 

* * *

 

Midori-san was good on her word and sent all three of her children to their house only a week later. The boys had almost completely recovered, and after having been confided indoors for days, were energetic to the point of driving each other crazy from boredom. For them, a visit to a new place was an enticing prospect, despite the fact that their usual rougher play was forbidden. Likewise, Aimi-chan was enthusiastic about the visit and glued herself to Tomoe’s side immediately, peppering her with questions.

While Tomoe kept the children company, Kenshin tried to spend the time by chopping wood and doing other miscellaneous chores in the yard. The keyword being _tried –_ because as soon as Aimi-chan managed to steal Tomoe’s attention, the boys wandered over to pester _him_. He didn’t know how it happened, but somehow in mere moments he was pulled in to play a few of the more common games with them.

The games were nothing too difficult or too taxing, just simple games children tended to play together that tested memory, wit and balance – and more than a few of them were familiar to the point of recognition from his own childhood, what felt like a lifetime ago.

Tomoe had been unanimously chosen as the scorekeeper, and she had accepted the role with a warm look entering her eyes.

The hours ran like the wind and before Kenshin knew it, the kids declared that _he_ was fun company. It was utterly mind-boggling. As a child, no one but his own brothers had ever been willing to play with him and as a student of Hiten Mitsurugi there had been no games at all… The kids laughed at his surprise, promising that they would definitely return as soon as they got permission again.

All together, the day had been a success, in more ways than one. For the kids, for Tomoe, and even for him, no matter how strange it had been to be invited to play.

Now though, the sun had set and they were alone, engaging in a somewhat different game – his favorite past time, trying to find new ways to pleasure his wife. Kenshin smiled, taking in the sheer beauty of his wife as she lay on the bedding, naked as the day she was born. A sheen of sweat covered her skin as she breathed deeply, her gaze half-lidded in post-orgasmic bliss.

Her nipples stood up pert, red and glistening with his saliva. He sat beside her, still dressed in his indoor yukata, simply admiring her.

She was so beautiful like this.

His left hand was slick with her juices, and in idle curiosity he lifted it to his face and sniffed at it. He didn’t know why, but the scent wasn’t unpleasant at all. It was odd, slightly musky… but not in any way repulsive. Almost compelled by his curiosity, he licked his fingers, tasting it.  

It was still odd. The texture was slippery, but it wasn’t bad, not at all. Continuing to lick his fingers clean, he looked at her consideringly. Her breasts were so sensitive and she seemed to really like it when he suckled on them. In fact, she had said something to that effect, hadn’t she? That it felt good to feel his tongue against her skin?

And her center was even more sensitive than her breasts, so what if…?

“Kenshin, what are you doing?”

 _Huh?_ Kenshin blinked in surprise.

She had sat up, propping herself up on her arms, and she was looking at him curiously, a hint of a scandalized blush on her cheeks as she stared at his fingers.

“Uh…” He slipped his hand away, hiding his fingers within his sleeve in embarrassment. None of the men at the inn had bragged about doing anything like that, so maybe it was somewhat of a dirty idea, but… “Errr, I’d like to try something,” he managed to say.

There was a hint of a frown between her brows as she stared at him and he hurried to explain. “You taste good…so, maybe, I could lick you? Down there?

“Kenshin…” She hesitated. “I, I… don’t know.”

“Let me try,” he insisted, feeling a bit more confident. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

He truly wanted to try this. If it worked, she would feel good, he was absolutely sure of it. While he had gotten quite good at playing with her breasts and pumping at her cavern with his fingers, there was only so much he could do like that.

He wanted her to feel good; it was as simple as that.

Maybe she could see some of the determination in his eyes, because after some hesitation, she gave him a single nod and spread her legs apart invitingly.

He grinned at her show of trust, settling to lie between her legs. Her thighs were so smooth, her skin pale and silky under his fingertips, and between her legs lay a dark nest of curls. He bit his lip in consideration, before reaching to spread her folds open carefully with his fingers and then leaned down to lick the glistening wetness on her swollen, pink skin. Her musk was heavy, almost tangy on his tongue… The headiness of the scent went straight into his bloodstream.

“Uhh…”

 _Just a lick and she is already vocal? Definitely a good idea,_ Kenshin decided on the spot.

He knew from earlier experience that while her cavern was sensitive, it was the raised folds over it that got the best responses out of her. He had never seen them before, but he had stroked them many times. Maybe it was safest to start there? Besides, he wasn’t all that sure what exactly he could do to her cavern with his tongue…. but licking her folds? That he could definitely do. Somewhat tentatively, he leaned to lick her again, starting to work at it slowly, carefully, long and steady licks over her sensitive skin.

Her moans and gasps were good indicators which strokes were good and which weren’t, he noted with certain delight. The taste of her juices was really growing on him. True, at first the taste had been odd, but hearing her pleasure… oh yes, he _liked_ this idea.

“Oh… mmhn… nnnh…”

She too was getting used to the sensation, judging by the way her voice got lower, more relaxed in her pleasure. Her thighs quivered against his shoulders enticingly.

 _So maybe, I could dare to…?_ Kenshin paused, concentrating. The center of her folds, it was a spot so sensitive that she always gasped when he touched it. Carefully, he licked it, teasing it a bit… before drawing breath and _suckling_ on it.

“Kenshin!” she yelled, her voice almost breathless in surprise as she tensed, digging her fingers deep into the bedding, arching her back upwards. Immediately he pulled back, raising his gaze to look at her.

Her eyes were wide, almost wild… and she was panting like never before. Her cheeks were flushed prettily with life.

She gulped for breath, before demanding, “Do it again.”

He grinned, and obliged. It didn’t take all that long for him to begin wondering about her cavern, though. As nice as the responses to his licking and suckling her folds were, it wasn’t quite what he was hoping for. He shifted his weight to his left side and traced her opening with his fingers.

Slowly, he pressed one finger in.

It looked quite nice as it sank in her, he noted with a certain thrill. It was so warm and wet, her flesh so pliable against his skin and her juices were just pooling out. What would it look like if he pressed something thicker in her...?  

Her moans made her agreement with this new idea pretty clear. Gently he started to push his finger in and out, in and out of her heat, getting used to the motion before returning to licking her folds.

“Kenshin… more,” she pleaded as she writhed on the mattress, her thighs trembling against his shoulders. The liquid fire was finally flowing in her veins, bringing with it the terrible urgency, the need for release. He had wondered. Usually she was faster than this, but then again, she had already come once, right before this whim of his.

Concentrating, he slipped another finger inside her, curling his fingers just so, the exact way he knew she liked.

“Oh, yes... just like that,” she groaned low.

Her panting deepened and she arched her back again, clenching her fingers tightly on the bedding, seeking something to anchor her. She was definitely close. Sweat was shining on her skin. _Time to bring her over the edge,_ he decided, and suckled hard on her clit, pumping his fingers in her cavern fast and hard.

“Ughnhhh.” She trembled all over, so tense, like a string drawn to its snapping point… and then, “Kenshiiiiiin!” she wailed, her juices flooding on his tongue like a wave of sweet nectar.

Wheezing desperately, she relaxed… utterly spent.

Slipping his fingers out, he gave one last lick to her folds before sitting up. He couldn’t help looking at her in admiration, this feeling of pride swelling inside him. He could do this forever and ever, he mused, no matter how numb his jaw felt right now. Idly, he wiped his face clean from her juices with his sleeve.

She was so perfect, so beautiful, so kind… she obliged his curiosities and tactfully ignored his faults and constant failures. He sighed. He was truly blessed to have a wife like her.

The heat of the moment had caught him, as well, bringing sweat to his skin and a terrible ache to his loins. He didn’t mind the painful pressure, not really. No matter how uncomfortable it felt, it was better just to ignore the ache while he worked to pleasure her. Ensuring her happiness was the best thing he had ever felt. It let him ignore his shortcomings, the knowledge that a good husband should be able to have sex with her, to please her just like most men could.

Like he… just _couldn’t_.

Even if he did sometimes wonder about the possibility, what it would feel like to slip inside her, to feel her warmth pulsing around him…

Kenshin sighed.

It would be useless endeavor.

The moment her fingers even brushed over his crotch, he was close to coming. How could he ever bring her over the edge when he couldn’t keep it up for even a minute or two? He was odd, weird, and a failure. So instead of hopelessly wondering, it was better like this. With his mouth and fingers, he could please her and it was good, for them both. And he loved seeing her like this…

Kenshin glanced at her, but she wasn’t panting anymore. Instead, there was a hint of a frown on her brow.

_Uh oh…_

“What is it?” he asked, somewhat worried. She had been pleased with him earlier, so why was she frowning? What had he done wrong now?

“Kenshin, come lie with me,” she invited, patting the spot next to her.

 _Errr, well… I can do that._ Hesitantly, he climbed over her legs and lay on his side next to her, propping his head up with his arm.

She turned to her side as well, facing him.

Her ki felt warm, but there was obvious concern in her eyes. Slowly, as non-threateningly as possibly, she raised her hand and traced his cheek.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. He was getting better at enjoying her touch, the growing closeness between them. But still, why did she look so troubled? He had thought he had done well – she had seemed to like it.

He had liked it, too.

“I love the care you bestow upon me,” she whispered finally. Her eyes were dark like a starry sky, soft and loving. But why was there that frown between her brows? “But I feel selfish for enjoying it so, like a bad wife.”

 _…What?_ His eyes flew open in surprise. “But, but… you are so perfect? How could _you_ feel selfish?”

The corners of her mouth tugged up a bit. “Because I get so much enjoyment from these moments, but you almost never come.”

That didn’t make much sense – at all. “But I _like_ making you come.” He hurried to explain, to nip this doubt of hers in the bud as soon as possible. “I feel good just watching you. I like to please you. I truly do!“ he added almost desperately. She shouldn’t feel selfish, like she was a bad wife when she was anything but!

And, and… he really didn’t want to face his failures again. Not again. Not like that, like he was just a little kid in a man’s skin. No, this subject was definitely too embarrassing for words. He looked aside, hiding from her gaze even as his ears burned.

“Kenshin, I know you like pleasuring me. It’s obvious how much you like it. And I like it too, but…”

“But..?” He risked a quick glance. The damnable frown was still there!

Slowly, she trailed her hand down his jaw, moving it lower, trailing his arm, his side...all the way until her hand found his groin. Purposefully, but ever so gently, she pressed her palm against his hardness. There were layers of cloth between her touch and yet, it felt like a crawling need to move, to do something, anything, flared in him, thrumming inside his bones and skin and veins.

“Ugh,” he grunted, bracing himself against the incoming wave.

Her caress turned softer, almost teasing, and a liquid fire rose in his veins.

 _No, no…_ Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut, but the need to escape was stronger. Tense as a springboard, he backed out of her touch, gulping for air. The feeling of betrayal was bitter salt on his tongue. “Don’t do that,” he whispered harshly.

Her eyes were serious, but her ki was warm and steady. She tilted her head to the side and asked calmly, like it was an entirely reasonable thing to ask, “Why not? Why can’t I make you feel good too?”

And maybe it was, but, but… he just…

He couldn’t look at her, not for this. He loved her, trusted her, but he also wanted to be a proper husband, a man she could be proud of. He wanted to please her, to do anything and everything he could for her, but the fact was… “I am such a failure.” He admitted in a low voice, feeling worse about himself than he had in months.

“How so?” she asked, still calm and collected, like they were talking about the weather.

“I, I… I, ah – all men should be able to stay hard, to please their women like _that_. To have sex, I mean. But, but... I know I can’t. If we did _that_ , I would come so fast and it would be a horrible mess and then it would be over and I would embarrass myself and disappoint you and I can’t even bring you over the edge like that. I know I can’t,”  he babbled, trying to explain, to make her see why it just wasn’t possible.

“Are you sure _all_ men can? How can you know?” she asked, almost curiously?

He stole a glance at her. She didn’t look disappointed. No, instead it was like… she was perplexed? Like she truly _didn’t know_ this.   

“Uh…” When had he come to this certainty, if _she_ didn’t know it? Kenshin crinkled his brow, rubbing the area between his brows idly, trying to remember. “It’s just… people have always said so. When I was in the Kiheitai, the other soldiers spoke over the campfire about stuff like that. The samurai at Okami-san’s inn, after they came back from Shimabara, were even worse. Iizuka-san, too. Even Master, when he teased me.”

“So, every man says so, thus it must be true?”

 _Why is her tone so dry?_ Kenshin paused, staggered to see such skepticism on her face. “Errr, yes,” he murmured hesitantly. Wasn’t it so? Why would all those men be lying to each other? They hadn’t known he was listening…

Her tone remained dry as she observed calmly, “Listening to women talk, it seems that all men are pigs. None of them can bring any pleasure to their wives. So, a proper wife should just lie on her back and let a man do whatever he wants as long as it last. When he is done, a dutiful wife will let him sleep and will finish the job herself.”

Eyes wide in disbelief, Kenshin lips parted, protests ready on his tongue. _That, that…_ “That doesn’t make any sense!”

Her gaze softened, and the corners of her lips rose, just barely enough to resemble – a _grin_?

“Doesn’t it?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The realization dawned, sudden as lightning coming down out of a clear sky as he compared both versions of the story, and then relief flooded in him; he wasn’t abnormal or a failure. It wasn’t about him. It could even be _common_. The insane feeling was so overwhelming that uncontrolled laughter sprung free from his lips. He covered his eyes with his hands, as he curled up, laughing wildly in sheer relief.

_Oh gods, all this time…_

All this panic and stress, all these fears… over a thing that could be perfectly normal? What had Master said to him when he was young? _You think too much, but don’t think enough to ask_? It seemed so very fitting, right at this moment.

_I truly am an idiot._

It took a while to calm down, to breathe normally and master his hysterical and utterly undignified giggling. When he finally managed it, he saw her looking at him fondly.

“I love you, you silly husband of mine.”

He smiled at her in relief. It felt really good to hear those words from her, to hear it out loud that she loved him, too. That their feelings were mutual.

They loved each other; it was as simple as that.

She patted the spot next to her.

And this time... this time he didn’t hesitate, moving to her side and kissing her.

Her fingers trailed across his cheek before she slipped them into his hair, pulling him closer and kissing him in return.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 08.04.2016.


	13. The Harvest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, the next chapter will be a week late. Animaniacal, who has been really cool and helpful beta-reading this story is going to Japan for a week. As we have been rewriting and editing unpublished chapters on weekly basis, this will cause some delay. Sorry about that! 
> 
> Warnings for soft-core sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, fellatio

# Chapter 26. The Harvest

 

The rains finally eased off **,** as autumn slowly turned into winter. Their field had suffered from the flooding, but not everything was lost. Diligently Kenshin pruned the wilted and browned leaves, removed the dead plants lest they rot in the ground. It was sad work, but he knew that if it wasn’t done, the few surviving plants would die too.

Thankfully, the soil was drying. The nights were steadily getting colder, but the morning sun was still enough to melt the frost. If the ground froze, it would destroy what little chance there was for his plants to make it. Yet, despite all that, Kenshin dared to hope that maybe, just maybe… some of their hard work could be harvested? He wanted to see something he had grown with his own hands, put so much effort into flourish. It would be a tangible proof that he wasn’t only good at killing things.

Yes, if this worked… he could show Tomoe that he wasn’t _only_ a killer.

When it came to the moments of intimacy they shared, the issue of his pleasure stayed between them. He had done his best to allow her hesitant touches, but it was just… when the liquid fire rose, the feeling was so intense and it ended so fast and abruptly. On some level, Kenshin knew he was being unfair to himself. But what good was it if just a few strokes brought him over the edge and the result was this terrible mess? And it was Tomoe that did the laundry!

He couldn’t help but feel bad about it.

Yet despite his protests, Tomoe was determined and wasn’t letting the matter drop. So maybe, with enough time, they could figure out a way. If only to bring her peace of mind.

During the daytime hours though, they were getting an increasing stream of visitors coming to their way – and most of them children. It seemed that their neighbor’s kids, Ichirou, Noburou, and Aimi-chan had really delighted in coming over to play at their place and they had dared to invite a few of their friends to come back with them. The logic behind the choice was obvious: meeting somewhere halfway, none of the kids had to travel too far. While Kenshin and Tomoe didn’t exactly mind the children coming over, they had been worried what the kids’ parents might think of this, but luckily their improving reputation had already smoothed over most of the kinks. Apparently the Himuras were slowly being acknowledged as trusted members of the community.    

What had helped their reputation the most was, ironically enough, Kenshin’s cover job. Now that it was late fall and the flu was spreading across the area, many people inquired after remedies. If they didn’t visit their house, then they stopped Kenshin and Tomoe on the road or in the village when they went to shop for groceries.

In a way, it was a relief. They didn’t have go out to sell the medicines now that people were coming to ask for them. However, it brought up a new issue of how to get _more_ medicine. Their stock was running low and they couldn’t exactly go out to get more. After all, knowing as little as they did about this job, the only way they could get more would be to buy them in Kyoto.

Thankfully, Iizuka-san dropped in to visit them early in the eleventh month. Along with news, he brought another full medicine chest. When Kenshin inquired about the reason, Iizuka-san scoffed and said it was the rebels’ way of paying his stipend, very much the same way as they had paid him every month when he had stayed in Kyoto. It made sense, in a way.

When it came to the rebel’s situation, well, things had changed somewhat: Choshuu had gotten Takasugi out of prison and he was doing his best to rally support in the province. Yet Kyoto was still completely under the Bakufu’s control and everyone even suspected of supporting the populist agenda was being hunted down and suppressed.

Iizuka-san warned him that when things changed, they would change with speed and requested for Kenshin to come meet with him every fortnight on the road from Otsu to Kyoto.

It wasn’t a big issue for Kenshin. He liked walking and meeting Iizuka-san halfway would keep the trouble with the rebels out of Tomoe’s hair. She had finally confessed to him that she would prefer not to see Iizuka-san, if it could at all be avoided. Kenshin understood the sentiment. His closest superior wasn’t the most pleasant of men in general and neither he nor Tomoe wanted to bring up the fighting, the war, or the rebellion needlessly. But at the same time, duties were duties and he couldn’t avoid them.

Of course, now that he was no longer just a nameless face for the people in the neighborhood, people stopped to chat with him every time he left the house. They were especially curious to see him traveling alone.

It was a strange thing to notice, but he hadn’t gone anywhere without Tomoe by his side for months, had he? And while Kenshin didn’t care for lying, the truth was the last thing he could admit to and so, he had taken to evasively explaining that he was restocking supplies in the mountains. It was even true as far as the facts went: he met Iizuka-san on the mountain road and he did get supplies during those trips. The rest, well… that wasn’t anyone else’s business but his own.

So the days had settled into their own rhythm and it seemed like time was flying by faster than he could keep track. There were no boring or empty days in his life anymore. Every day was filled with new things to learn, new people to meet… and most often, new experiences that brought a smile to his lips.

The children’s visits were especially fun, as embarrassing as it was to admit.

Tomoe seemed to enjoy her role as peacekeeper, counter of points and achievements. She excelled at it, truly. Her natural calm worked wonders for soothing hurt tempers or reigning in the more rambunctious children whenever necessary. However, Kenshin found himself dragged to partake in the games more often than not. Strange as it was, the kids had decided that it was worth the trouble to convince him to play, even if he was always more than hesitant to join in.   

Playing with kids wasn’t a very husbandly or adult-like activity and yet, there was something soothing in the carefree manner the kids played. It eased some painful pressure in his chest, a wound deep down he hadn’t even realized was hurting.

Perhaps, it was the same for Tomoe?

Her eyes seemed really soft sometimes, whenever he caught sight of them amidst the children’s laughter.

One day Kenshin found himself showing the kids the sort of games he had played with his own brothers, once upon a time. As a child from a very poor family, he hadn’t had the luxury of toys – every game had been built from whatever tools they had managed to scramble together on their own, and rest had been built on imagination.

It caught the kid’s attention straight away. None of these kids had much, either. After all, the lives of the ordinary folk had been getting worse for quite some time, and even here, near the capital, the farmers’ families had been tightening their purses for years. So instead of looking down on his tricks of how to build toy soldiers and animals out of cones, sticks and straws… the kids gulped down every bit of advice he shared, utterly enchanted by the possibilities that   _making_ their own toys opened.

So they played, crafting elaborate stories and making them more real with make-shift figurines. For the older children, this expanded into larger toys, so to speak. Drawn lines on the yard became provincial borders, a stick with a bit of hay tied around the end became a horse, another stick became a sword, and so they had samurai, farmers, and villagers, popular folk stories re-enacted in a children’s game.

The kids _loved_ it.

Tomoe found it fascinating as well, even if she was somewhat wary of the boy’s insistence on waving sticks around whenever they played samurai. She didn’t like the thought of fighting, but even she could admit that there was little harm letting the boys act out stories of their heroes. And while the use of imagination to enhance stories was familiar to her, she had been a child from a good family and she had always had toys available, paper balls, puppets and dolls. Perhaps that was the reason why none of the games the children or he had come up with were in any way familiar to her?

It was a curious difference and despite knowing it was a foolish expense, Kenshin bought a light paper ball from the village. She noted his purchase with some amusement, but didn’t protest when he suggested she show some of the games she knew to the kids.

Needless to say, the fragile ball became a new favorite – especially for the girls.

It was a good thing, for the most part. The younger girls of the brood gathering to play on their yard didn’t always have the endurance to stick it out in the boy’s games for too long.

However, one afternoon Aimi-chan fell down while balancing the ball on her head and managed to hurt her knee. It was a little scrape, but Tomoe took her inside to patch it up. However, the second the little girl stepped out, she declared to everyone on the yard, with her trademark enthusiasm, that the Himuras house was really nice and they had lots of cool stuff, like a super mean-looking sword leaning against the wall!

Which, of course, caused Kenshin to instantly curse his habit of leaving his sword out in the open. He still needed the reassurance of having a sword in his hands every night and it was just easier to prop it against the wall during the day. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that someone might accidentally see it.

Unfortunately, that word was all it took to catch every kid’s attention. Especially the boys, they become like dogs hunting for a bone.

“Kenshin-san, why do you have a sword? Is it a real sword?” Noburou, the youngest of their neighbor’s sons asked, his eyes shining with curiosity.

“Uh… um...” Kenshin scrambled for words. “It’s just something to protect Tomoe with.”

Instantly an eager chorus surrounded him, bombarding him with questions, comments, and demands.

“Ooh!”

“So can you use it?”

“Are you a warrior?”

“I wanna see it.”

“Show it!”

“Swords are so cool!”

And for a moment, Kenshin wanted to smack himself in the face for his utter stupidity. _Damn it! Why do I always have to answer, even when I know nothing good will come of it?_ Rather desperately, he tried to defuse the situation. “I haven’t used it in a long time and I am definitely not going to draw it without a reason.” Narrowing his eyes seriously, he added firmly, “Swords are not something to be played with.”

In truth, Kenshin hadn’t even thought about swordsmanship in ages. Tomoe didn’t care for fighting and he did his best to do right by her. Even now, he found himself looking at her over his shoulder, searching for some sign of what to do. She was tense, sadness was apparent in her dark eyes. She truly didn’t like to be reminded of fighting.

He didn’t either.

He was happy here with her, living this quiet life.    

Around him, the kids’ eagerness had turned into obvious disappointment, as they had truly wanted to see the sword and some tricks.

“But what if you taught us how to play at sword-fighting with sticks?” Noburou insisted. “It wouldn’t hurt anyone! You could show us how it’s done for real and we could play samurai better!”

 _That’s… not a half bad idea._ Kenshin blinked in surprise, before nodding slightly. And just like that, it was decided. Whenever the younger kids got too tired for games that required more participants, Tomoe could show them something less taxing to do and the older boys would play sword-fighting with him.  

Despite Kenshin’s initial wariness, it turned out to be quite fun. Treating swordsmanship like a game, it reminded him why he had loved the art so much as a child. And the best thing? Seeing the boys laughing, waving their sticks around like he showed them… it didn’t bring the sad frown to Tomoe’s face, either.

The weeks flew by, the nights growing colder and the days shorter.

Early in the 12th month Kenshin finally decided to harvest their field. Overnight frosts had been getting more frequent, and no matter how pathetic his few surviving vegetables would be, they wouldn’t grow much anymore in any case, now that snow was just around the corner. However, to his utter surprise, the few vegetables that had survived were perfectly fine looking. Sure, they were smaller than usual, but still alright. And there were quite a few of them too!

He was so happy about it that Tomoe suggested buying some celebratory sake and fresh fish from the village. So that evening, they enjoyed a proper feast made out of their own harvest. Tomoe had grilled fresh fish and seasoned it with their own radishes. She had also boiled carrots and fried cabbages, seasoning them with soy and ginger and pickled beets.

The food was so good that he couldn’t get enough of it and kept asking for seconds. Tomoe’s delightful cooking made out of something he had managed to grown with his own hands… This was what satisfaction felt like, Kenshin decided. This feeling, right now, it made all their hard work and worry over the field worth it.  

Tomoe seemed to share his happiness, as her ki was warm and her gaze soft. After a long moment of consideration, she broke the comfortable silence, “You smile a lot these days.”

Kenshin glanced up, a bit surprised. “Do I?”

She nodded thoughtfully, a hint of sadness entering her gaze. “If your life had taken another route, you could have been happy living like this, working your field and eating food grown with your own hands.”

Frowning a bit, he set down his bowl on the table, not really interested in the meal anymore. _What is this about?_ He didn’t like the sadness in her eyes. _Has she been thinking about the past again? Or the future?_

_Why?_

_Is it because of the meetings I have been having with Iizuka-san? Does she fear that our time living here together is coming to an end?_

“I guess that’s true,” Kenshin allowed after a moment’s pause. If it all had been different, he might have grown up to be just another farmer. Rubbing his brow, he thought back on the twists of his life and the choices he made, good and bad, and all the might-have-beens.

_Come to think of it, have I ever told her this?_

“I have been through a lot of bad times,” he began, glancing up at her. “I was born in the middle of a famine and lost my parents and brothers to cholera. From a young age I trained relentlessly under the Hiten Mitsurugi style. Now… I am Choshuu’s assassin. In all my life, in my dealings with people, I haven’t had a lot to smile about.”

She tensed at his stark words – yet she didn’t shy away behind the veil of hurt like she tended to. Could it mean that she would listen to him? Maybe even start to understand why he fought?

“I learned the principles of the Hiten Mitsurugi style, wielded my blade and killed for the sake of a better world, to insure the safety and happiness of the common people.” He repeated the phrase he had carved into his soul, the words he had said to himself time and time again during the worst nights in Kyoto when it had all felt so empty, so meaningless. Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly and whispered, “And yet… I know now that it was a misguided idea.”

It felt like heresy to say it, but he knew the moment he said it that it was the truth.

He swallowed, once, twice… then raised his gaze to meet her shocked eyes. “The best I can do is to live here and create life instead of destroying it. I have never known happiness until now. It wasn’t until recently that I even understood what the word meant. It’s living here, spending time in the village and coming home to you. That’s what true happiness is.”

He took a breath and continued, his voice gaining certainty with each word. “Living here with you, it has made me realize how horrible my life as an assassin truly was. And the reason why I learned this essential lesson… is you.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose to his lips, because everything he said felt so right. “Tomoe, you have taught me this new way to live, given me this happiness. From now on, that is what I will fight for.”

The hesitation and coldness bled out of her ki and she nodded. Just once, but it meant the world to him.

There was no need for words, anymore.

She understood his reasons, even if she didn’t agree with them wholeheartedly. It was enough. He knew how much she disliked war, the very thought of fighting, no matter its purpose. Yet, despite their differences, she was there and she had _listened_ to him and _understood_. It was more than anyone else had _ever_ done for him.   

In silence, they returned to their meal and afterwards, they shared the sake. She took a moment to warm it for them. Together they sat next to the fire pit, watching and listening to the crackling fire.

It was only then that she spoke. “After this war is over… I’d like to live like this with you.”

Kenshin glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes before reaching for her hand. Yes, to live with her like this, he would like that, too – oh, it was _everything_ he wanted.

She reached out to him, gently stroking his left cheek and turning his face so their eyes would meet. There was a certainty in her tone, an undeniable inner strength. “And if it happens, if we can have that life together… then I want to have a child, a daughter, with your eyes.”

What could a man say to that? Kenshin smiled, laying his own hand on top of hers as he promised, “Then we will.”

 

* * *

 

As the end of the year approached, the weather turned colder. The ground froze, and even the surface of the nearby stream was frozen over, so that he had to break open the ice every time he went to fetch water. Snow should be coming any day now. If Kenshin was entirely honest, he had been waiting for it. He had always liked snow and the bereft emptiness on the ground, the muddy roadsides and withered plants, the leafless trees… everything was so brown and dead. It would be nice to have fresh snow to cover it.

Kenshin was getting a little bit worried by the news from the Capital. Just few days ago he had met with Iizuka-san again, and his superior had told him that Takasugi-san had led the Kiheitai to take over the provincial government in Hagi. Choshuu was literally boiling with dissidence again. To make it worse, no one had heard from Katsura-san since the Hamaguri Gate rebellion, and people had even taken to calling him “Runaway Kogoro.”

It made Kenshin’s blood boil that people would so easily lose their faith to Katsura-san.

What was even more worrying was that according to Iizuka-san, it wouldn’t be long before the Bakufu would try to flush out the rebels that were hiding in the countryside and back in the province…

It didn’t help that lately Kenshin had been thinking back to events from the summer. How the Bakufu had ordered a hit on him long _before_ the Ikeda-ya. _Weeks_ before the Shinsengumi’s famous strike on the rebels, some faction of the Bakufu had known about Hitokiri Battousai’s identity. And if they had known his face then, what would stop them from following him here?

He was too easily recognizable.

And if those men came for him, now that the Capital was under Bakufu’s control... then Tomoe, too, would be in danger.

The very thought brought chills to his skin. It seemed that no matter what, their peaceful reprieve in Otsu was drawing to a close. However, without word from Katsura-san, Kenshin couldn’t exactly take Tomoe and move elsewhere, either. No, somehow… he just needed to sit tight and ignore his worries and fears.

Thankfully, with the winter on them, the Bakufu’s options would be restricted, too. With the threat of snow arriving at any moment, no one would be chasing after rebels this deep in the countryside. After all, this high in the uplands, when the snow came, it would come fast and heavy, enough to make travelling difficult.

Yes, if only the snow would come… then they would still have time together, here in their paradise.

It made him feel better about the situation.

The persistent cold had pushed them to buy warmer clothing from the village, such as two more yukata, along with haori coats and thicker socks. It was somewhat expensive, buying so much at once, but given how meager their clothing options were, the spending was necessary.

Another thing changed by the winter was their bathing routine. Their house was too small to have a proper bath house like Okami’s inn, or the bathtub Tomoe had grown up with in her childhood home. Still, despite the inconvenience, she liked staying clean. So he did his best to please her, no matter how much work it took to carry home the icy water from the stream and heat it up inside.

Though admittedly, Kenshin couldn’t exactly claim that he _disliked_ her insistence on bathing often. Especially since she didn’t mind him washing her back, or any other spot, when his hands began to wander... and she didn’t seem to mind the things that often followed her bath, either.

 _No, this isn’t all that bad_ , Kenshin decided with a slight grin. He was gently rinsing soap from her chest, taking in how her lips quivered under his careful ministrations.

However, unlike the few times they had done this before, tonight Tomoe had convinced him to strip, too, so that they could bathe each other. He had protested at first. He wasn’t very comfortable in just his skin and it was intimidating to think that she could see him so bare. But it was only bathing and given how she had flat out requested it of him, well, he couldn’t exactly say no to her either, now could he?

So here there were, sitting on the raised edge of their wooden floor, water buckets and dry towels off to the side and nothing but soapy foam on their skin. It was more than a little bit silly and odd, but at the same time… it was quite nice to look after each other like this.

Tomoe had taken great pleasure in washing his hair, remarking out loud how nice it looked now that some effort had been put into its care. It was all thanks to her, of course – she still liked to brush it every now and then. He didn’t mind it, not exactly, though his hair had gotten somewhat lengthy. It was to his lower back now.

Her hair was a bit longer still and much thicker, like a smooth dark waterfall. He had admired it greatly, when he had insisted on returning the favor and washed it for her.

However, despite how nice it was to care for her, he couldn’t help but note how very tempting her bare skin was when wet. Her glistening, pert nipples were eye-catching in the light of the fire, so gingerly, he leaned down to pay some attention to them…

She allowed it, continuing to stroke his bare back and neck with a wet cloth. Every now and then, her breath would hitch, or she would let out a low moan. It was pure music to his ears.

“I love when you do that…ooh.”

Kenshin paused, before suckling a bit more forcefully.

“Ahh, sometimes I think—” She arched into his touch, tightening her arm around his back and gasping breathlessly, “I, ah… I think about what it would be like to do that to you.”

 _…What?_ Kenshin looked up at her between his lashes. There was a delightful flush on her cheeks, but her eyes were intent, even considering.

He raised an eyebrow, and still looking at her, suckled again.

She nearly _pouted._

“I mean, you look like you enjoy doing that. Ahh!” She moaned low in her throat, struggling to continue, “But, I would like to give you something in return… uuh.”

With a certain amount of disappointment, he let go of her nipple, straightening to look her in the eye. They were back to this? True, she had been insisting on his pleasure for a while now, but… He sighed, “I know you would like to, but it’s just not worth it. It’s so messy.”

Kenshin had developed a deep loathing for the mess his pleasure would inevitably cause. The come was so thick and creamy and it had to be annoying to wash off. He truly, truly didn’t want to bother her with it, not when she insisted on doing the laundry. If it was up to him, he would let this whole matter lie. He got all the satisfaction he could ever want just by watching her. His pleasure, the brief heat… it was wasted effort at best.

However, unlike the frustration he expected, there was a sparkle in her eyes, and she looked at him slowly, trailing her gaze down across his skin. “There is no clothing to get messy now.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Kenshin glanced down at his lap and in that second, he realized the extent of her plan. _So that’s why she was so insistent on us bathing together…_ He swallowed numbly. Could he get out of this? Did he want to get out of this? Sure, there was the familiar ache in his loins, ready to stir into full blown arousal…

“So, can I?” Tomoe asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

Kenshin let out a breath he had been holding and then, slowly – he nodded, trying his best not to tense as she leaned closer and trailed her fingers across his pectoral, tracing the outline of his nipple.

It was just a feather-light stroke. It tickled a bit, feeling entirely different from the comfortable strokes she had used when washing his chest. No, there was very different purpose to her motions now and somehow, that purpose made the most innocuous of touches exciting even when they shouldn’t be.

Her eyes were large and held intense concentration as she felt out the form of his muscle, touching him, exploring.

He tried to relax, to allow her this whim. She had been so kind and accommodating to his enthusiasm for exploring her body, so how could he stop her from doing the same? But still, he wasn’t sure about this. Not at all.

She took his nipple between her fingers and squeezed lightly.

 _Oh…_ Kenshin frowned, trying to sort through the sensations. It wasn’t exactly bad, but it wasn’t rousing the liquid fire in his veins either, not like this. In fact, the ache in his loins was lessening?

She looked at him, a question in her eyes.

“It isn’t bad… just odd,” he tried to explain.

She hummed in answer, leaning closer to his chest to take a lick.

“Ah!” Kenshin shied away from her mouth even as he tried to control the bubbling laugh tumbling from his lips. “Ticklish,” he explained.

She shook her head, fondly patting the spot next to her in a wordless invitation. Without hesitation, he sat down next to her, his uncertainty fading by the moment. This was just curiosity and that he could oblige, no matter how odd it felt.

But then she took his nipple between her teeth and _sucked_.

Kenshin’s eyes shot open and he gasped, “Haah!” That was, that was… it didn’t hurt, not exactly, but the feeling – he had never felt anything like it before!

“Did I hurt you..?” she asked, the slightest of crinkles between her brows.

“No…” he admitted, gulping breaths. While he really wasn’t too sure about this, there was nothing he could object to about this crazy whim of hers, either. Well, except for the fact that this couldn’t be in anyway exciting for her. Somewhat mournfully, he watched her perky breast as he leaned back, propping himself up on his arms and allowing her better access.

She took his concession with some hesitation, leaning back down to explore.

It was a little bit cool, just sitting here, the wetness on his skin making him shiver. Or maybe it was her teeth. She kept nibbling his poor nipples, and every now and then she would suckle or suck on them. He was beginning to get used to the feeling. It really wasn’t all that bad, not really…

“Uh…” He bit inside his cheek, trying to hold back the strange wordless sound rising from his lips.

Yet watching her mouth, her teeth, and her red lips to do their work, feeling her wet tongue on skin that was getting more sensitive by the moment… it was almost, nice? He could learn to like this sight, he decided. It wasn’t all that manly, to just lean back and let her do what she wanted. But the fact was, he cared a lot more about her wants than his much abused self-esteem. And if she wanted to do this?

There was no question.

The room was getting somewhat hot. Sweat was forming on his skin and the ache was returning to his loins. Uh, yeah – he was definitely getting hard again. Did that mean he liked this? Or… no, it couldn’t be this strange thing he liked, no way. It was the sight of her caring for him that he liked, and her red lips…  

Oh, he would love to kiss her beautiful lips.

Pity she wouldn’t let him.

It didn’t take her long to notice his returning hardness. Almost idly, she started to stroke his length with firm motions, continuing to nibble on his pectorals and nipples.

Kenshin groaned, biting harder on his lip. He really, really didn’t want to let out any embarrassing sounds, but, it was just – her hands felt so soft, and her slow strokes were… “Ahh..”

His pulse was picking up speed, like he was in the midst of an intensive sparring session, and the crawling need to move was stirring in his veins, seeping through to his bones.

She wrapped her fingers around his length, squeezing it gently, moving her hand up and down, and it took all his will power not to moan, not to beg her to do it again. He bit harder on the inside of his cheek, trying to stay silent, but her teasing was getting to him and the the liquid fire pooled downwards, pulsing through his whole body and it _ached_. He felt so full he could burst any moment now…

And then she _bit_ him.

“Haaaah!” It was like a bright light flashed before his eyes, tense heat bursting through him, and he was over the edge.

Falling to lie on his back, he covered his face with his arm, struggling to gain his bearings. _Inhale, exhale… just breathe, come on – just breathe,_ he thought to himself, doing his best to ignore the shame churning in his gut. It was easier said than done. Why was it always like this? Yes, for the briefest of moments it felt quite nice, but he had to work a lot more to bring her over the edge, and she enjoyed it so. Compared to that, all he seemed to need was a couple of teasing strokes and _biting_ , of all things.

Shouldn’t the biting be repulsive?

Yet, it hadn’t been. The slight pain had been just enough to offset the overwhelming fullness, the terrible pressure the liquid fire brought, but at the same time, he couldn’t possible like it. His left nipple, where she had bitten him was smarting a bit and idly he rubbed it. It didn’t hurt, not exactly… but still, this couldn’t be in anyway normal.

“Did I hurt you?” She leaned over him, concern in her eyes.

Kenshin let the arm covering his eyes fall back, trying his best not to let his embarrassment get to him. She knew how fast he came. They had been over his. She didn’t think any less of him because of it. She just wanted to please him, like he wanted to please her. “No, it wasn’t bad. I just don’t understand the need, that’s all.”

She wet the washcloth in the bucket of lukewarm water, wrung it out and started to sweep away the brand new mess that had spread all over his abs.

 _Well, at least that’s easy like this,_ Kenshin though judiciously. And to be fair, it felt quite nice as she washed his chest, his stomach, before trailing the wet cloth downwards.

“I’m almost jealous of how little body hair you have.”

Kenshin glanced up at her. Where had that come from? _Oh…_ “Mhhm,” he agreed wordlessly, closing his eyes again. The wet cloth felt quite good on his softening length, too. There was a sense of tranquility spreading over him, from having gone over the edge and come. It was almost fatigue but not quite, rather a calm relaxation that went deeper than sleepiness.

Maybe that was why he didn’t feel too touchy about her idle remark. Well, a bit, but he tried not to let his issues get to him. He knew that she accepted him, even as odd as he was. Also, she wasn’t exactly wrong. As embarrassing as it was to admit, even she had more. Unlike most men, he didn’t have even a hint of hair growing on his chest, or his cheeks. And the little he had elsewhere, well…

“It’s not that I have less, per se. It’s just pale in color.” Kenshin defended weakly, looking aside.

_Inhale and exhale…_

It felt quite nice just to lie here.

She took a towel and began drying him. He didn’t feel like sitting up and protesting. And if she wanted to, why not? It didn’t take long for her to finish. Without another word, she picked up another towel and began drying her hair.

Her skin was already dry, he noted. It didn’t feel too cold like this, not when the fire crackled beside them, emitting a gentle warmth. It was dark outside. Yet, it wasn’t too late, not enough to retire to bed, at least. The days were just getting short this late in the year.

She was really beautiful sitting there next to him. Her breasts in particular…

“Could I now continue where I left off?” Kenshin turned to his side and motioned towards her chest with his hand.

The corner of her lips twitched in amusement. She was getting better at showing emotion, he noted with certain pride. It still wasn’t easy or natural for her, and the expressions on her face were always slight and fleeting, but he could see her emotions more easily these days. Or perhaps he had just learned to read her better?

“For now,” she allowed with a small nod.

Kenshin tilted his head in question. _Just what is that supposed to mean?_

“The floor is quite hard, though.” She glanced to the corner of the room where her bed was folded carefully.

Kenshin sighed at the obvious hint and sat up. It wasn’t that he didn’t see her logic, but moving around in their house without even a thread of cloth covering him automatically roused the desire to dress in to yukata, to hide his body from wandering eyes. But then again, what was the point? She wasn’t making any sign of dressing either and she had agreed to continue playing a while longer.

Together they spread open the futon and settled to lie on it. She looked at him just so, glancing down to her breasts, and that was all the invitation he needed. Eagerly, he leaned closer to cherish her breasts, to bestow teasing touches and caresses on her sensitive skin.

Sometime later, just when he was getting to the best part, his fingers slick from her juices as he suckled on her breast, all of a sudden she pressed her hand to his chest, requesting a break. He glanced up in surprise.

_What is it now..?_

She was panting quietly, her skin flushed with life – not even close to coming, but definitely feeling the heat. _Huh, but why would she want to stop now? Surely I haven’t done anything wrong…_

She drew breath, and said, “I want to suck you.”

 _…What?_ Kenshin gaped, too shocked for words. _What? Why? And now?_

“Yes, really.” She said like it was nothing scandalous. She collected herself, sitting up slowly and giving a pointed look to his lap. “You are hard again, so I want to suck you.”

Well, yeah… now that she mentioned it, yeah, he was aching with fullness again. But it hadn’t been that long since last time. Why would she want to do it again? Hadn’t once been enough? Kenshin pouted. It was his turn to pleasure her…

Still, when she pushed him to lie on his back, he didn’t protest. It wasn’t like he really could, given how many times she had indulged him in matters like these. Even when she moved downwards and settled herself next to his legs, he didn’t voice his thoughts. Sitting up a bit, he propped himself up to lean on his arms. After all, last time, the best part had been watching her. So if she insisted on this, he would allow her curiosity, no matter how much he would prefer pleasuring her instead.

Seeing her lips so close to his stiff length, a rather terrible thought came to him. He shouldn’t doubt her, but with his nipples, she had bitten and ugh… “Please, carefully,” he pleaded, watching her consider the task at hand.

She glanced at him and let out a tiny huff – almost a scoff? She shook her head and took a gentle hold of his hardness.

And maybe it was wrong of him to doubt her, yet, he couldn’t help but tense when she leaned down...

_Why does she even want to do this? This can’t possibly be pleasing to her!_

Her red lips parted, and she _breathed_ on his hardness.

It was like a shiver raced through his spine and all the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His eyes impossibly wide, he stared as she leaned forward and took him in her mouth and—

“Ahhh!”

It was so warm and so wet… and it felt so, so good.

 _Oh gods, this feeling,_ Kenshin gasped, staring at the ceiling blindly, trying to make sense of the world turned upside down. He felt all the things he had thought he would feel if he were to slip inside her cavern, but at the same time, even his wildest dreams couldn’t match how good it _really_ felt.

_Oh gods, oh gods…_

He tried to breathe, to get past the overwhelming feelings.

She wasn’t even doing anything. She was just holding the tip of his hardness in her mouth. Why? Why would she…? She glanced up at him through her lashes, and then something inside her mouth _stroked_ him, just so.

“Ughh.” It was her tongue. It had to be.

Ever so slowly, she moved her head up and down gently, letting her lips and tongue caress every bit of his skin inside her mouth. It was maddening. The crawling need to move was there, just at the edge of his senses, but the heat wasn’t overpowering like usual. No, it just… it felt incredibly good.

Struggling to keep breathing, Kenshin tried to find something for his hands to hold onto. He wanted, no _needed_ to do something, but he didn’t know what. And she kept glancing up at him every now and then, teasing the tip of his length. Just the tip. She moved up and down, up and down, torturing him with the sweetest touches he had ever felt.

Her hand was tight around the base of his length, and every so often she squeezed, just a little.

It was terrible.

It was wonderful.

It was utterly horrible and amazing and the best thing he had ever felt and no matter how he hard tried to keep silent, embarrassing noises kept bubbling out of his mouth.

“Aaaah… mnnnhh… Tomoe…. that’s…”

He just couldn’t keep still, stay silent like a proper man should. Not when the warm heat of her mouth surrounded his flesh and her tongue stroked him so gently…

And despite all that, the liquid fire wasn’t there to plague him. The crawling need to move forced him to writhe, had him arching his back and clenching his fingers in the bedding, but he wasn’t coming. He didn’t know why. It didn’t make any sense. By all reason and logic he should have come a dozen times by now, but he just _hadn’t_. This right now, this was better than he had ever felt, but he wasn’t _coming_. He should be, but he wasn’t.

And Tomoe – his incredible, wonderful, perfect wife – she was so beautiful with that flush on her cheeks, her eyes half-lidded and looking at him like she knew exactly what she was doing to him as she held him in her mouth, her ruby lips so tantalizingly surrounding his length.

It was the most desirable thing he had ever seen.

And then she _sucked._

“AAAHHH… To… mo… e.” He moaned low in his throat.

_This, this is… utterly impossible._

Fighting to keep his hips from bucking up, he stared at her, his eyes wide open. There was a sense of urgency, a desperate need to get more, just a little bit more – to end this gentle torture by bucking up. But he couldn’t, forcing too much on her could hurt her, it just wasn’t done. He could never do such a thing to her!

Desperately, he tried to stay still, but the crawling need was making it impossible, so he sat up. He wanted to curl his fingers in her thick hair, but he couldn’t, so he just clenched them in the bedding tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The liquid fire was growing and pooling downwards, and he was aching, aching so badly…

And Tomoe, she kept moving and stroking, sucking and suckling. He couldn’t stand it, he was getting so tense, so very close to the edge. He didn’t want to come; he didn’t want this to end. She was so beautiful right now, but he didn’t know how could he stand this a moment longer.

And when that painful, throbbing pressure burst, it would be a mess… but it was so close.

So close!

“Tomoe,” he panted, trying to find the words to warn her, “it’s close! It’s almost there.” She needed to pull away, but he couldn’t push her!

Her eyes were dark like the night sky, but serious, like she was daring him to…

And then, she dipped her head, taking him in her mouth all the way to the base and sucked _hard_.

The loose thread that had kept him hanging so precariously close to the edge _snapped_ and he fell.

When he came to and opened his eyes again, she was looking at him with mild concern, stroking his hair gently. His pulse was racing like he had sprinted at his top speed all the way from Kyoto and he was breathing deeply… but he felt good. There was a deep lassitude settling in his limbs, like every need to move had abandoned him.

“Are you alright?” she asked gently.

He nodded… and opened his mouth, trying to find the right words, but in the end he couldn’t manage anything more coherent than, “Thank you.”

She didn’t say anything, just looking at him with a tenderness that he couldn’t name, stroking his hair.

It felt good.

He felt utterly spent, calm… but not tired.

However, there was one thing he was curious about. “Did you know that it would be different the second time?”

“I suspected,” she admitted. “Sometimes it takes me longer to reach the edge the second and third time, no matter how clever you get.”

It made sense, in a way. He had never thought about it before, how a realization he had about her could apply to him. Kenshin sighed. “I love you.”

She smiled a true smile in return.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 15.04.2016.


	14. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for sexual content, eg. kissing, petting, fingering, vaginal penetration

# Chapter 27. Secrets

 

Two days later, they got a new visitor.

Kenshin was entertaining the kids in the yard while Tomoe fixed them all something to drink. The kids had showed up early today. Well, no wonder – in the middle of winter their duties at home were limited, especially as snow had yet to arrive. However, while Kenshin couldn’t say he minded looking after the kids, he was somewhat curious about what Tomoe was up to.

She _was_ taking rather long.

And come to think of it, yesterday in the village she had mentioned with a certain spark in her eye that she had plans for how they should celebrate the New Years.

Was this about that?

Kenshin grinned helplessly, an almost anticipatory tension gathering in his belly. Good food, some sake to soften the mood – those were most likely in her plans for tonight, and after that? They had been building towards the next step in their intimacy for a long time. Maybe tonight, they would finally take that last leap into the unknown?

_Stop it, idiot, and focus!_

He shook his head, struggling to pay attention to Ichirou’s and Noburou’s playful boasting. They were holding sticks in their hands with grips that bore little resemblance to the real deal, but at least the boys seemed to enjoy pretending they were famous swordsmen. However, he wouldn’t have picked pretending they were Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku in their mighty quest to defeat the horrendous leader of the Shinsengumi, Kondo Isami. Because, logically, as the adult, he had to play the bad guy…

Kenshin sighed, and with a slightly martyred expression, fended off the boys’ enthusiastic flurry of strikes. They tried their very best, but they had no real form and the speed of their attacks was lessened by excessive and highly inefficient movements. It didn’t take much for him to track their actions simultaneously and block them. After all, while he wasn’t all that good at ambidextrous fighting, he had been forced to draw his wakizashi and defend himself in tight spots often enough.

At a distance he sensed a new presence approaching, but he couldn’t bring himself to be wary. The presence was small, focused, but there was a sense of uncertainty to it that suggested youth. A new kid coming to play, perhaps? He had met most of the kids in the neighborhood often enough to recognize them, and this presence didn’t belong to any of them, but then again, this kid could easily be from the village.   

Then he saw the source of the ki presence: a young boy, about ten or so years old, staring intensely at them from the roadside, his fists clenched tight by his sides.

Kenshin hadn’t ever seen the boy before, not in the village, not in the neighborhood. It was somewhat perplexing. He had thought he knew most of the people living here and the boy was so young – he couldn’t have come far.

Kichirou and Noburou noticed his inattention and turned to look, too. Their curiosity was catching; even Aimi-chan and her friends stopped with their game with the ball.

“Who is that?” Kenshin asked, careful to keep his voice light.

“I don’t know,” the oldest of the kids, Ichirou, took it upon himself to answer, a thoughtful tone to his voice. “He is not from the village.”

“Maybe he wants to play with us?” Aimi-chan suggested, but she too was a bit hesitant.

“I’ll go ask him!” Ichirou declared.

There was no hesitation in that boy, not even when it came to strangers. Kenshin shook his head. Maybe it was better this way. With his strange colors, he was somewhat intimidating at first, for most kids. He didn’t hear what Ichirou said to the strange boy, but for some reason the boy got angry. His ki flared, and without further warning, he snarled, threw back his fist and _hit_ Ichirou in the face.

“Hey!” Kenshin shouted in alarm, rushing forward to break them apart before things could get worse.

_Why on earth would he hit Ichirou like that?_

Sure, Ichi could be a bit too enthusiastic at times, just like all of their neighbor’s kids, but he couldn’t have said anything that merited resorting to physical blows!

However, when Kenshin finally pulled the snarling boys apart, the strange boy didn’t even hesitate, biting down on his hand like a wild cat.

“Atatata!!!” Kenshin half-gasped, half-grunted, trying desperately not to unleash his curse words. There were children present, after all. But, _damn_ … that hurt!

“Enishi?!” Tomoe’s breathless voice pierced through the haze of pain. “Enishi, is that you?”

And the wild cat of a kid tensed all of a sudden and wrenched himself loose from Kenshin’s hold, shouting happily, “Sister!”

 _No way, no way in the eight great hells…_ A shiver ran down Kenshin's spine, as if in premonition, as he watched the wild cat of a child run into his wife’s arms and hug her with all his might.

Tomoe knelt, hugging the boy back, murmuring soothing words into his ear. Her ki _stormed_ with shades of freezing coldness and warmth, the feeling becoming something far more intense than either of them alone. As she gathered the boy in her arms, it felt like she was shielding him from all harm with the ferocity of a mother bear protecting her cub. _Cross this line and you will pay dearly_ , her ki seemed to promise to anyone who could sense it.

 _This has to be a dream, a waking nightmare of some kind. Anything but reality,_ Kenshin thought dazedly as his wife stood up, drawing her arm around the boy and inviting them both inside for introductions.

Apparently, this boy, this Enishi-kun, was Tomoe’s brother.

Kenshin didn’t need to hear her words to see the fierce love shining in her eyes. No, despite the suddenness, the sheer implausibility of this encounter stumbling into his lap, this boy was his wife’s brother and even if he was a bad-tempered, ill-mannered, wild cat of a child, he was family.

Tomoe’s eyes were so hopeful, as she met his gaze. Clearly, she desperately wanted them to get along.

“Your brother…” Kenshin swallowed, struggling to ignore the hesitation born out of his terrible first impression of the boy, and the flicker of jealousy twisting his gut like an insidious illness. Sweat gathering on his brow, he smiled and decided to start anew. After all, he was a man and it was his job to set a good example and welcome the boy into their household properly.

He stepped forward and murmured, “Yes, now that you mention it, you two have the same eyes.” And just like Master had done to him, he reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair – to offer an adult, accepting gesture that had often soothed away his own worries and fears.

The kid’s eyes smoldered and before he managed to touch him, Enishi bit him _again_.

“Ugrh,” Kenshin grunted, hissing in pain. _Damn, what the hell is wrong with this kid?!!!_ Blinking tears of pain from his eyes, he saw that the boy had again rushed into the protection of Tomoe’s arms.

Tomoe looked at Kenshin sadly, giving a pointed look at the door.

The hint was obvious.

“You probably have lots of things to talk about. I’ll wait outside.” Kenshin grimaced, turning to leave as he shook off the lingering twitches of pain in his hand. Never before had he felt like as much of an outsider in his own home as at that moment, with Enishi’s proud eyes lingering on him, making sure he left even as Tomoe knelt to console him.

Without looking back, Kenshin walked out of the door.

 

* * *

 

_That boy, Enishi… he hates me._

It was an irrational thought, Kenshin knew. Just like the jealousy brewing in the pit of his stomach was utterly stupid, childish, and far beneath the man he tried to be. Tomoe hadn’t seen her brother in ages. Of course she wanted to make sure the boy was alright. Of course they wanted some time alone.

Yet, he couldn’t quite stop glancing at the quiet house and the door that stood between them, an impenetrable wall that cast him out of his home. Even if he concentrated, he couldn’t make out anything more than an inaudible murmur coming from the house, that was easily drowned out by the gleeful shouts and gasps of the neighbors kids as they returned to their play in the yard.

Idly, he rubbed the swelling, round bruise forming on the back of his hand. The brat had bit down with enthusiasm.

 _Another shared trait between the siblings,_ he noted with a certain wry humor, before sighing loudly. Somehow, he didn’t know how, he would have to bury his feelings and try his best to be as accepting and kind as possible to the brat.

If for no other reason, then for Tomoe’s sake.

His beautiful, wonderful wife was the steadying presence in his life, the rock he leaned against whenever things got too much. Of course, she would want the brat to live with them. Given how Enishi had sought them out alone, he most likely didn’t have anyone else to look after him, either. After all, it was beyond the pale for a boy so young to travel alone.

_How far away did he come from, anyway?_

Kenshin frowned. For the longest time, he had assumed Tomoe was like him, that she had no family to speak of. But what if she had run away from home? He knew so little of her past, only bits and pieces that formed a very imperfect image, but he had accepted it, knowing that speaking of it made her sad. But if she had a younger brother, were there more relatives she had left behind?

How many more surprises would he come across?

Especially since the brat – no, Enishi – was so much younger than her… _No, stop thinking too far ahead. She will tell you in her own time, you know that._

Speaking of which, how had Enishi even found them? No one but Katsura-san and Iizuka-san was even supposed to know about this house. Well, Tomoe had gone to the village alone a lot in the beginning, but she wouldn’t have sent letters. She knew just as well as he did how important it was that they stay hidden. Besides, she had been surprised when she saw her brother. Her voice, it had been almost breathless with shock – incredulous, even.

“Kenshin-san! Kenshin-san, what’s wrong? Are you hurt badly?” Aimi-chan shouted at him, her eyes full of worried curiosity.

“Oh sorry, I’ll be right there with you.” He smiled, pushing his troubles and growing disappointment aside. After all, while he might not be able to make much sense of this mess, he had a sinking feeling that the New Year's fun had been canceled.

 

* * *

 

As the sun started to set, Kenshin escorted the kids home. Partly, to clear his head a bit before trying again with Enishi... but he had also wanted to apologize to Midori-san and Kichirou-san on Enishi’s behalf. If Tomoe’s brother was going to be living with them, it was only right that they try their best to patch things up with the neighbors.

Ichirou had developed a rather sizable bump on his temple where Enishi had hit him, but it didn’t seem all that dangerous of an injury. Kenshin had weathered his own share of bumps and bruises when he had trained with Master and he had a fair bit of knowledge when it came to these things. However, just to be sure, he checked on the swollen skin once more despite Ichirou’s protests – the boy kept saying that he was fine, that it didn’t hurt at all.

Kenshin had his doubts about the validity of that claim. His hand was still smarting rather badly, and he had seen how much force Enishi had packed into the strike. However, if Ichirou wanted to dismiss his pain and show a brave face in front of his siblings, who was he to dissuade him?

After all, they had been playing brave warriors and no matter how silly it was, the boys had been insisting on acting like the heroes in their stories. It had been strange to realize how fast the years had flown by. It hadn’t been that long ago that he had entertained similar thoughts, but now… now he knew that heroics were not nearly as black and white as the stories made them out to be.

Midori-san’s disapproval had been obvious when he explained what had happened.

Kichirou-san, however, had dismissed it as “boys being boys” and told him to forget it, that it hadn’t been his fault, even if the ill-tempered child had turned out to be his relative.

Aimi-chan and the boys had been quite vocal about their desire to come over to play the next day, too.

Kenshin consented to the idea with some reluctance, reminding them that they should try to welcome Enishi into their play. Maybe they had just started off on the wrong foot and it would only take a little work for them to befriend the boy?

With their best wishes in tow, Kenshin left for home.

However, instead of meeting the boy at the house, eating dinner with him and Tomoe as he had thought – he saw Enishi glaring at him at the crossroads on the way to their house. His eyes shining with tears, the boy spat out angrily, “You! If only you hadn’t been there!”

Kenshin didn’t get the chance to say one word before Enishi ran off, leaving him to stare after him, feeling utterly and thoroughly at loss. He had assumed the boy would be staying with them for good…. Should he chase after him? But then again, what good would it do? Enishi had a problem with him, that was obvious. Most likely, he would only make things worse if he tried to force Enishi to talk to him.

_Yet, a boy so young and so angry…_

Well, Tomoe had let him leave. Perhaps, it meant Enishi had his family or someone he depended on waiting for him?

_Yes, that makes sense._

However, Kenshin couldn’t help feeling curious when he arrived home. He noticed Tomoe  intently writing in her diary, her ki feeling colder than it had in ages.  

“Hey...” he started hesitantly, wetting his lips. “Where is Enishi going?”

She slammed her diary shut, spinning around like a startled deer. Her eyes widened, fear and even _panic_ flashing in her dark eyes.

 _What..? Why would she…_ Kenshin gaped, frozen in shock. What could have made her so scared? She was never scared! He swallowed dryly and then, trying to make his voice as calm as possible, he asked, “What is it?”

“Um….”

_…Is that guilt in her eyes?_

“Enishi…” she hesitated, “...is going back to Edo.”

“To _Edo_?” Kenshin stared. _That’s, that’s… almost 350 miles. She left her family and traveled that far? Why?_

“Ah… well, you were probably wondering about me,” she whispered, looking aside, her fingers trailing over the worn covers of her diary. “I never told you. Up till now, I thought I wouldn’t have to speak about past at all. But maybe… this is a good chance for us to talk.”

It felt _wrong_ to see her so uncertain, to notice how she avoided his eyes.

She shouldn’t feel so cold, look so distant, like she was building up the wall around her heart anew. Whatever had happened, whatever words had been exchanged… she, of all people, should _never_ feel guilty.

It wasn’t right.

She was innocent, pure… in a manner he could never be. Kenshin exhaled softly and walked over to her, taking her hand into his own and squeezing it comfortingly. “Later. Please, don’t be so sad – I can wait as long as you need.”

Finally, her eyes met his and she nodded gratefully.

He smiled shyly, a surety rising in his chest that he had made the right choice. It didn’t matter whatever would come, whatever had brought this sadness to her… because he would be there for her, just like she had always been there for him. No matter how bad of a storm was coming, they could handle it together.

 

* * *

 

They ate dinner in silence.

Her cooking was delightful as always and he enjoyed it without insisting on conversation. He could give her all the space she needed to collect herself and her thoughts before broaching painful topics. After all, her calm manner was what had allowed her to survive whatever horrors she had run away from.

It couldn’t be easy to be reminded of that time, as he knew all too well. His past was also full of darkness. It was easier to let such troubles lie.

With practiced motions, she collected the dishes and started to prepare the tea.

He rose to his feet, moving towards the doorway to take a look outside. _Huh…?_

“No wonder it was so cold – it’s snowing. It will cover the ground by morning,” he murmured thoughtfully, soothed by the sight. He had waited for snow to arrive for so long and finally, it was here. They would be safe until it melted, no doubt about that.

Yet, despite his relief at the realization, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy at the tenseness between them, the coldness in her ki, the sadness in her eyes.

No. Now was not the time to delight over such a simple thing as snowfall.

“I told you before that my family is from Edo,” Tomoe began softly, keeping her voice calm and light – cool, almost emotionless. “There were three of us, my father, my brother and me. We lived peacefully. We weren’t so well off that we had money to spare, but we went never hungry. My father knew nothing of the martial or scholarly arts, but he was a kind and loving man, good to his family and his neighbors.”

She settled to sit by the fire, cradling her tea in her hands. But her eyes held such sorrow, like he had never seen before. But why would her family be so hurtful a topic? This was nothing he hadn’t already come to suspect about her. After all, he had always known her to be of good name and origins. The samurai class had an abundance of families like hers.

“My mother was kind too, but she was always delicate, and of ill health.. She died shortly after Enishi was born. Enishi never knew her – I always took care of him. He came to love me as he would her…” Her voice wavered slightly, “He has a tendency to judge people harshly and he can get a little out of hand, but he is a good boy. When my engagement was announced, he threw a tantrum. That’s the worst he has ever been.”

 _Engagement…?_ Kenshin froze, his heat skipping a beat. _She was engaged? She was in love with someone else?_

Jealousy twisted in his gut, squeezing his throat tight and for an agonizingly long moment it was impossible to breathe. He closed his eyes and did his best to stomp down the feeling. She was _his_ wife now. And even before, when they had met, she had been so sad and alone… obviously something terrible must have happened.

She fell silent, preparing the tea for him with graceful movements, before offering it to him. “Here.”

The teacup felt warm in his hands, but there was no comfort in the familiar scent, not now. Without tasting it, he put it aside, laying it on top of the cupboard.

She avoided his gaze. Her whole form was tense, shrouded behind manners and the walls around her heart. Her hands clutched the hem of her kimono, the only clear indicator of her distress as she drew breath, “My fiance was the second son of a similar family. He was a childhood friend. Like my father, he wasn’t accomplished, but he was kind and hardworking. At the time, I loved him very much and when he chose me, I was very happy.”

Her eyes rose to search for his, and it made his heart _ache_ for her.

He wanted nothing more than to draw her into his arms and promise that it was okay now, that it was all in the past, that he had her now and forever. But he couldn’t, not yet, not when sadness was like poison in her soul and she was letting it out, allowing him to share her burden for the very first time.

“Even though I was so happy, all I could do was look at him in amazement. No matter how I hate it, I can hardly smile. Maybe that’s why… I never told him how happy I was.” She paused to look aside. Her lips twisted into a grimace as she lowered her voice, speaking somebody else’s words like they pained her. “ _If the second son of a samurai cannot make you happy, I will at least be known as a warrior of repute_ , he told me. He postponed our wedding and joined the Kyoto Mimawarigumi, entering the chaos of Kyoto. And he… never returned. I didn’t wait for the news to come to me. I left for Kyoto as well.”

She looked up, locking her eyes with his intently, like she was willing him to see, to understand. “He _died_ , in a far away place that I didn’t know. The happiness I should have had… it _died_ with him.”

Her ki was so cold, colder than a midwinter’s frost, but her eyes, her eyes were sad and furious and bewildered all at once, like she was lost in her grief and he was her lifeline back. It was too much, there was such a terrible weight on his chest and he didn’t know how to help, how to make it better. There were no words that he could offer to ease her suffering, not against hurt like this.

“But maybe…” She paused, a shaky hiccup tearing its way past her reserve. Her eyes glimmered for a second, before her tears began to flow freely. “Maybe it was really _my_ fault. If I had cried then, and tried to stop him…”

And finally Kenshin knew what he had to do. He didn’t even stop to think, he just swept her into his arms, catching her weight as she fell like a broken doll with all its threads cut loose. She buried her face in his neck and cried without remorse, her sobs racking through her body, her tears seeping into his kimono.

It was terrible thing to listen to, but he cradled her head, stroking her hair and whispering comforting nonsense into her ear. “It’s all right. It’s all right now.” The words didn’t matter. He closed his eyes and let her cry, offering her whatever comfort he could, no matter how small it was. “Shh. It’s alright. It’s alright.”

It was good to cry, to let out the hurt she had been harboring inside her all this time… like bleeding an old wound of poison, he thought. No matter how much it hurt to listen, to know how much she had suffered, carrying this grief alone...

 _No more_ , he swore.

When the sobs finally slowed to nothing more than exhausted sniffles, he leaned down to gently kiss her brow.

She wiped her eyes and her runny nose on her tear-stained sleeve, before tiredly leaning against his shoulder, seeking the simple comfort he offered.

She felt heavy against his side, but he bore her weight without complaint. Not even the prickly feeling in his fingers as his circulation was cut off justified asking her to move. No, he would be there for her, as long as she needed him. He kissed her brow again, slower, letting his lips linger as he stroked her hair.

After a while, when she didn’t seem quite so wrung out, she lifted her hand to trace his scarred cheek, turning his face so she could kiss him on the lips.

It wasn’t a nice kiss.

It was desperate, intense… it almost hurt. But he allowed it and returned it without question. If she asked it of him, he would give her anything, everything.

Maybe she just needed to forget the past for a moment.

Her hands wrapped around him as she continued to rain ferocious, hungry, messy kisses on his lips. He slipped his hands into her hair and returned them, leaning in to explore her mouth deeper, drinking her taste, heady desire awakening in him.

She drew him down further and right then, breathing didn’t matter, hurt, desperation, the past – nothing mattered. There was nothing but her, solid and real in his arms, the heat of the moment, their wet kisses and the way she molded herself into his every touch, desperate to get closer to him.

When she slipped her hands under his kimono, he didn’t protest. He merely returned the favour, tugging her top loose to access her breasts.

There was no need for words.

He leaned down to suckle those milky globes, delighting in her soft moans.

When her hand slipped down to stroke his aching length, he didn’t shy away – he merely grunted, letting her relieve the painful pressure gathering there as the liquid fire crawled in his veins. He buried his face in the valley of her breasts, trailing desperate kisses across her skin, moving upwards until he got high enough to lick the side of her neck. All the while she stroked him maddeningly.

It was close, so very close, just a little bit and then—

“Ahh, Tomoe!” he gasped softly, like singing praise to a goddess, as she brought him over the edge.  

She kissed him hard, drowning out the words that bubbled on his lips. With her tear-stained sleeve, she wiped at the mess spreading on his lap.

He felt no shame – it wasn’t the time for that. No, despite the lassitude threatening to sink into his bones, he, or she... he didn’t know who, maybe they decided together, but they rose to pull her futon out from the corner of the room and rolled it open.

It was a relief to fall on the bedding, to feel her soft curves against the hard planes of his chest and his bony hips as they shared desperate kisses, hurried motions and strokes, shedding what remained of their clothes, trying to get as close as possible to one another. Drinking in each other’s breaths, they tried to feel as much as they could of each other’s skin… there was no time to think, only _feel_ as they moved through these age old steps, this dance as old as men and women.

Their skin was covered in sweat, but it didn’t feel cold, even if it should have. The heat they shared was unbearably hot and when he again found her breasts, it was natural to suck on them, to slip his free hand down across her stomach, trail his fingers down through the thatch of curly hair to feel the soft folds and the pliable, wet heat of her cavern.

He pumped his fingers in and out, in and out, to give her the relief she yearned for.

She mewled and moaned under his ministrations, liquid fire burning inside her. Her pants became deeper, harsher, and her eyes sought his as she begged, “ _More!_ I need you – _inside_. Please, Kenshin—”

There was no time to question, to think… He settled between her legs, fumbling to position his hardening length to her hole—

And then he was _in_.

Oh gods! The heat! The warmth! It was all around him and it was too much, so much better than he had ever dared to imagine! He pushed in deeper, feeling a slight barrier give in and then he was inside her all the way to the hilt and oh gods, how it felt!

She gasped and grunted, as if struggling to adjust – so he stopped, trying to collect himself against the overwhelming sensations, seeking her eyes for approval.

Her eyes were red from all the crying, tear tracks having dried on her flushed cheeks, but her ki was warm. And though there was a certain wildness to her gaze, her lips were parted in soft pants… and then she whispered, “ _Please_.”

It was just one word, but that’s all it took.

He had to move. He knew he had to give her what she wanted… and he _knew_ what to do. It was so familiar, like he had always known how to do this. It was in his spine – an instinct. So he pushed in and drew out a bit, before pushing in deep, repeating it time and time again. There was nothing elegant or controlled about it. It was hurried and desperate and utterly _perfect_.

It felt so good and so natural to move his hips like this, like he was born to do this.

She gasped and moaned so, like she knew this too. Like she, too, enjoyed this, just as much she had enjoyed the other things they had shared.

In and out, in and out he moved, his breath growing deeper, sweat flowing down his back as the moment stretched for an eternity. She arched her back, drawing her legs tight around his hips, pulling him in deeper as she moaned, her hands tightening on her bedding. Her breasts jiggled, her eyes seeking his, and then a shiver racked through her form and her cavern pulsed around his flesh _just so_ , and she gasped, “Ah, _ah_ – Ken _shiiin_.“

 _Oh, gods, does she even know how beautiful she is like that?_ He grinned foolishly, pride rising in him at the sight. He had just made her come. She had come and he was still _hard_. He pushed inside her again – feeling her slippery wetness against the pulsing, throbbing mess that was his length.

 _Oh yes_ , he was still hard.

So, so, hard.

He closed his eyes for a second and groaned low. Oh, he never wanted this moment to end. Yet the ache in his loins was growing, becoming impossible to ignore. He was tense, so tense and the liquid fire was alive in his veins, almost forcing his movements. He leaned closer to her, pushed deeper inside her, searching for something, anything to relieve the ache that was building inside him.

He moaned, shuddering – all but sobbing as he kept pushing, in and out, in and out. It was too much. The pressure, the heat, the wet warmth all around him, it was all too much and then, the string of sanity that he had been holding on to _snapped_ , the liquid fire bursting through his length into her – and for a second, for one blessed flash of a moment all he could feel was the peaceful emptiness it left in its wake.

He fell to lie on top of her gentle curves, in the safety of her embrace.

His throat felt hoarse, like he had shouted his joy to the world, but that couldn’t be true. He just hadn’t been able to help the sounds that bubbled past his lips, that’s all. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled the column of her throat, drawing in the faint scent of white plum perfume lingering there.  

Her hand reached up to tenderly stroke his hair and his sweaty back.

It felt so _safe._

How long they lay there, just trying to catch their breath, to anchor the world back into place, he couldn’t say.

But when he finally realized that he was lying on top of her with his whole weight, he instantly slipped off. Pulling his softening length from between her legs – it felt like leaving home, so comfortable had he been there – she rewarded him with a faint, relieved sigh, which meant much more to him than his own comfort as he settled to lie beside her.

Her face was a mess.

Actually, she was a mess all over – but so was he.

He reached out to stroke her hair. Her beautiful dark eyes turned to him and warmth bloomed in his chest, a feeling that had no other name but love.

He smiled, “Hey, there.”

There was no hint of sadness or grief in her eyes. No, all that poison had left her and she was calm, at ease in the afterglow with him.  

“Thank you,” she whispered, after a small pause.

Kenshin trailed his fingers down her cheek, to her chin. “We are a mess.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in answer – not a true smile, but telling enough. Neither of them was exactly fine yet, but they weren’t broken anymore, either.

Sometime after, the drying stickiness on their skin forced them to get up. Kenshin remade the fire and with some grumbling pulled the door open enough to scoop a couple bucketfuls of fresh snow inside. It was really quite cold outside, he noted. The snow was falling heavily and already over a handspan covered the ground.

Tomoe melted the snow in the kettle to use as bathwater.

In the soft light of the waning fire, they washed, taking care of each other. It was a comfortable routine, calming, even nice.

It felt good.

Afterwards they dressed and leaned against the wall side by side, to stare at the fire, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other’s presence in silence.

Idly, he started to think on her words, the past she had brought up. She had suffered so much, lost everything she had because of the rebellion, and worse, her fiance and her family had been on the Bakufu’s side.

But in the madness of Kyoto, wasn’t it true that both the rebels and those that supported the Bakufu were merely following their own beliefs?

It felt natural to voice his thoughts in this silence, to reason it out – his hopes and his choices and the reality of war he had come to understand all too late.

“A little more than a year ago, I quarreled with my Master and left him because I wanted to protect the happiness of the people. I wanted to end the conflict and start a new era… that’s why I joined the Choshuu Ishin Shishi and became Hitokiri Battousai.” He paused to draw breath, wetting his lips. “I believed that I could make a difference with Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, but in reality… it wasn’t that simple. I killed and killed, without bringing the new era one step closer. I was just a murderer. I buried my feelings, but somewhere in my consciousness, the hazy smell of blood was never far away.”

It was a terrible thing to realize that it had played out just as Master had said to him back then: he had become a common murderer. That just like the people had said about him, he had been falling into insanity.

Tomoe’s eyes were calm, unassuming. She was simply listening and being there for him, instead of judging him or scorning him.

“That was when I met you. Your questions pierced the haze around me. My half-lost sanity returned to me.”

If not for her, he truly didn’t know how he could have survived the chaos of the summer, when the haze of blood had never been far from him. He paused, eyes widening in realization. There was no smell of blood here, only her scent. The faint, feminine white plum perfume she liked to wear.

“For the first time, I understood the seriousness of people’s many different kinds of happiness. No matter how grand the Hiten Mitsurugi is, no matter how I tried to use my skills, no man can change an era alone. And he certainly cannot bear the burden of other’s happiness alone… The only thing he can do is protect the happiness of the people he sees before him, one by one. But before that… “

But before he could do that, well, there was still the matter of Katsura-san’s vision. He still believed in it. He had given his word and no matter how it hurt, he still believed in the Ishin Shishi’s cause. So for that cause, he had no choice but to be a murderer, a hitokiri until the day that the new era was achieved.

After all, too many people had died for the dream of a better future.

If he abandoned the cause now, those lives he had taken would have no meaning – they would become nothing but senseless murders.

No. No matter what, he would have to push forward and pave a way for the new world, even if he had to bury his heart in the process.

The resolve sunk deep, echoing in the abandoned recesses of his soul.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. “But when we reach the new age… Maybe this is foolish of me, but I want to find a way to protect others without taking lives. I want to find a way to atone for the crime of stealing other people’s happiness with my own hands.”

It felt _right._

Kenshin turned to look at her, whispering gently, “Tomoe…”

“Yes?”

“The happiness you lost once in this violence… this time, I will protect it for you.” He reached for her hand and smiled softly, his eyes pleading to her: _Please let me protect you, today and tomorrow and ever more. Please, let me keep you safe – so that you never, ever again have to hurt like this again._

Her dark eyes widened, but she nodded, a slight pink blush rising to her cheeks.

“Yes.”

And then, he saw the most beautiful sight in his life: her _smile_ , full and unreserved _._

They stayed side by side until their eyelids drooped and yawns arose. And then, for some reason, it was the easiest thing in the whole world to lie down beside her and relax, to face the lull of dreams at her side.

And that night, for the first time, they slept together – like two lost souls who had reached out and found each other at last.

 

* * *

 

A strange feeling tingling at the edge of his senses awakened him. It was a flicker in ki, so faint that it was barely even there, and already moving away. It didn’t _feel_ threatening, so he just turned on his side and sighed deeply, snuggling deeper into the warm cocoon of blankets around him. It felt so nice to lie here, feeling so utterly content. The bed was soft, he was warm and relaxed all the way to his bones.

Last night had been trying, but together he and Tomoe had won, had overcome the past sadness, hadn’t they?

 _Yes, we won._ He smiled, closing his eyes and inhaling her scent, spread all over her pillow and blanket. _We won and then, we joined together as a husband and wife, at long last._

It had been so good that there were no words to describe it.

Never before had he felt so accepted, so thoroughly loved.

He sighed wistfully, turning onto his back, drawing his arm over his face to ward off the sunlight.

He didn’t want to get up, not yet.

No matter how late in the morning it was, this was the first time he had slept in a bed with her and he wanted to savor the experience… but damn, the thin rays of sunlight pouring in from the window blinds drawn shut were really quite annoying.

Kenshin _pouted._

With a shiver, he drew his hand back under the blankets. It was cold in the house – a bit too cold, really. His breath misted slightly in the cool air. Hadn’t Tomoe dared to make a fire yet?  

Maybe she, too, had slept longer than she intended?

Lazily, Kenshin turned to look beside him, but the spot where she had lain was empty.

_So, she is already awake? But it’s too silent…_

A shiver of alarm raced down his spine at the thought and he concentrated, trying to feel her familiar ki presence.

Nothing.

Without a second thought, he was up from the bed.

_Tomoe, where is she?_

There was no reason for her to go outside, no reason at all for her to leave the house. But she wasn’t inside, that became clear in seconds. Her kimono, where was her kimono? She usually neatly folded it and placed it on top of the clothes chest for the night, but now, it wasn’t there. Her wooden clogs were not by the door, either.

Kenshin didn’t pause to dress or put on his shoes before dashing out of the door.

The ground was covered with over two hand-spans worth of pure white snow… and in the snow, there was a trail of footprints leading _away_ from the house.

_She left?_

_Where?_

_Why would she leave without telling me?_

With barefeet slipping on the trail he ran, following the footprints – until he got to the road, where they melded together with many others on the popular route.

_Oh gods, why would she leave?_

The sun was high – it was already near noon. How had he managed to sleep this late? How had he managed to miss her leaving?

_Where would you go, Tomoe?!!_

His pulse was beating so fast that he couldn’t hear anything but its drumming in his ears. He tried to breathe. _In and out, just keep breathing_ , he told himself to master the panic.

_If, if she really left…_

_No! She can’t have left. She wouldn’t! Not without telling me, not without a very good reason!_

Kenshin paced, desperately trying to make sense of the messy trail on the road, to find a clue of some sort – but there were too many sets of footprints: geta sandals, straw sandals, large and small all melding together in the soft, new snow.

_Oh gods, oh gods – I don’t even know which direction she chose!_

His bare feet were starting to freeze and he was shivering, rubbing his yukata clad arms in vain. It was far too cold. His teeth were starting to chatter when he finally headed back, tracing her steps carefully, trying to think. He would have felt it if anyone had come near their house. He was a very light sleeper. He had always been. No matter how tired, how safe he had been last night, he wouldn’t have been _able_ to ignore any foreign presences coming near them…

But there had been a presence, hadn’t there?

_And I woke up to it…_

Kenshin swallowed, dread twisting his gut and then he saw it. In front of their house, on the wooden log he used to chop firewood, there was a letter held in place by a small stone.

Hesitantly he reached for the thick, still dry paper and unfolded it.

It was a map.

And there, in the right corner, were neatly written words: “We have lured her into a trap. If you want to see her again – come. Come to us before her time runs out.”

It felt like someone grabbed his heart in a tight grip and squeezed it. Bile rose in his mouth, flooding his tongue.

_Tomoe. Lured into a trap. To see her again…_

A red haze fogged his vision, a veil of fury so strong, so overpowering that for a second he couldn’t even _think._ His ki gathered, like a snake coiling tight inside him and _exploded_ outwards.

The spirit inside him roused from its deep sleep and for the first time in months, it rattled against the wall, ready and willing to –

But his anger was stronger. Why would he need the spirit? No, with this red hot fury driving him, he didn’t need coldness and apathy, the numbness he had used to survive the agony of an assassin’s life. No, for Tomoe – to save her from these bastards who had dared to lured her into a trap and threaten her life, he would kill.

He would _kill them all_ without a second thought.

The words on the map echoed inside his skull. _Tomoe. Trap. Protect her. Her time running out._

_Her time._

_Running out._

He closed his eyes and inhaled, focusing his ki and struggling to pull it back under his control. Yes, just like that. Now was not to time lash out, no – that would come when he found the bastards who took his wife. He would kill them all and make sure that for every hurt she had suffered, they would pay back tenfold. But first, he had to find them and conveniently, the idiots had left him a map.

The bastards had no idea what they had awoken.

_I will find her and bring her back._

Kenshin opened his eyes slowly, staring at the deep gouges in the snow, the frozen ground, some of them reaching high enough to even cut into the wall of the their house. He couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. After all, ki was a dangerous weapon. Double so, unleashed like that.  

_How very fitting._

It didn’t take long for him to change into his fighting gear. His worn-down kimono and hakama, the old, worn gauntlets Master had gifted him years ago, and finally – his swords. It felt natural to slip his short, fancy wakizashi and his longer katana side by side into his sash.

The place the bastards had taken her was deep in the mountains. Some ten miles or so, if he read the map right. It wouldn’t be an easy trek in this deep snow, made heavy and slippery by the sun.

How had they lured her into a trap? What did they have that she had no choice but to go?

Kenshin paused in thought.

She wouldn’t have gone for a small reason. And yesterday, she had been so tense, so sad. Enishi, too had been crying, hadn’t he? What had they spoken of?

Had they threatened someone in her family?

Or could it be…

Enishi had run off yesterday. And if these men had wanted to set a trap, the boy would have been an easy target to pick up.

_Damn, damn, damn… I should have followed him!_

Kenshin grimaced, sitting down on the edge of the firepit to pull on an extra pair of socks to cover his freezing feet, strapping his sandals tightly around them. Sandals weren’t ideal in the snow, but they were sure better than nothing.   

But for what reason had those bastards targeted Tomoe or her family? The Yukishiros didn’t have much money, nor prestige or power _–_ well, at least to his knowledge. So why would she be a target?

_…But what if, she wasn’t?_

It made no sense for these bastards to attack her for her own sake, he realized, his heart skipping a beat. _No, this is all for me._

_It’s a trap for me._

_They used the boy to lure Tomoe to them, then the threat to her to lure me. They_ want _me to come into their territory._

But realizing the extent of their plot didn’t change anything. Even if these men had prepared a trap for him, he had no choice but to go. After all, if he didn’t come, the bastards would have no reason to keep Tomoe alive...

But who were these men?

_Bakufu?_

Yes, definitely. It couldn’t have been anyone else. But which faction? This was too elaborate for the Shinsengumi, the Mimawarigumi or other samurai groups, but wait –

_That assassin in black!_

_What if this is about that? They knew of my identity back then, didn’t they?_ His throat went dry, and Kenshin swallowed. Gods, this was exactly what he had been afraid of these past few weeks, listening to Iizuka’s bad news piling up.

Yet, none of his fears mattered, not when they had his wife.

Nothing the Bakufu had ever thrown at him had been enough to stop him. With the strength of Hiten Mitsurugi he had cut them all down with ease, every single one of them.

And with this fury driving him?

They wouldn’t stand a chance.

_Tomoe – please, wait for me. I’ll save you. I promise._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 29.04.2016.


	15. The Forest of Barriers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Major character death

 

# Chapter 28. The Forest of Barriers

 

The map was accurate, Kenshin realized. It had lead him to the mountains, right to the point where a trail of geta-made footprints left the road and headed into the thick and unwelcoming forest, dark with shadows even in the bright, midday sun. It wasn’t an easy path to climb either: the ground was uneven and made slippery with snow.

_How brave she must have been, coming all this way alone._

She should have woken him up, told him of her troubles. Surely, she must know that he would do anything for her?

 _But if she knew they were after me,_ _it couldn’t be… was she trying to protect me?_ Kenshin bit his lip, a wave of guilt flaring in his gut, making him feel distinctly ill.

Because if all she had known was that a group of Shogunate assassins were targeting them… it could have seemed like a fight that couldn’t be won, not through direct confrontation.

After all, she didn’t know about ki, how he could fight like he did. She didn’t know how overwhelmingly powerful Hiten Mitsurugi was against ordinary men. Even in his darkest hours, he had never told her how his agony was caused by the _ease_ of killing, not the difficulty.

 _No, I never told her anything important._ Kenshin scowled, his fingers curling around the hilt of his sword.

It didn’t make sense to keep the map, not when he could easily follow her tracks. He let the paper fall from his slack fingers into the snow and followed her footsteps into the forest.

However, there was something very wrong with the forest. The thick trees loomed tall and dark around him, leaving him feeling out of sorts, like something crucial was missing – a part of him that he had relied on all his life.

Frowning, Kenshin concentrated, trying to determine _why_ he felt like this…

The snow was soft and cool against his tabi socks, crackling under his every step. The air smelled fresh, clean – but the crisp coldness was making it difficult to breathe in deeply. His chapped lips, gnawed from stress, tasted coppery with blood. No, it was not his sight, his sense of taste, smell or feel that was missing, but…

Biting his lip, Kenshin tried to feel his ki.

 _Yes, there is the wall… but where is the coldness? Where is Kenta?_ Kenshin’s breath hitched as panic rose. He couldn’t feel his ki at all! Not his own, not Kenta’s. Not even a bit of it! It simply wasn’t there! The wall that had separated the two, yes – he could feel his side and Kenta’s side as easily as always, but he couldn’t feel a drop of ki anywhere!

Eyes widening with horror, Kenshin finally understood the extent of the plot against him.

It was this forest, this forbidding mountain that he had been lured to. It had to be. He had felt perfectly normal and healthy before he had walked in here. And speaking of ki, where were the animals? There were no birds or rodents anywhere, no tracks or signs of their presence, either. Well, no wonder – the local wildlife would steer clear of a place that stifled the flow of life energy all around them.

There was no doubt about it: this was the reason those men had lured Tomoe here, knowing he didn’t have any option but to follow.

_...But even knowing this, I can’t turn back._

If their plot didn’t work, those brutal killers wouldn’t have any further use for Tomoe and they would kill her.

If he didn’t get there in time, Tomoe would _die_.

Did it matter that he had no ki? No Kenta to surge through the wall and save him? He still had his sword – his training, his experience as a killer. Master had trained him for years with no ki to aid him. So what if he didn’t have the godlike speed, the strength to cut through obstacles? So what if he couldn’t use the special attacks of Hiten Mitsurugi?

So what?

It didn’t matter.

He had his hate, his terrible fury to fuel him. He didn’t need anything else. He was still Hitokiri Battousai and he would save Tomoe.

_Yes, I will protect her happiness, just like I promised._

A tiny whiz of wind, the tiniest crunch in the snow was all the warning he got that there was someone behind him. Blindly, he lunged to the left but it was too late – a terrible pain flared in his back.

Gulping for air, Kenshin crouched, ready to attack.

A man stood just few paces from him, dressed all in black and wearing a face mask… just like the assassin from the summer.

 _So, it_ was _them._

It was an idle observation Kenshin noted along with everything else; the absolute confidence in the man’s posture, the stringy muscularity of his arms, and how he held his katana in a rather unconventional hold. All signs pointing to experience with fighting. Throughout his scrutiny, the man boasted about the brilliance of their plot, how they had lured him into this demon’s forest where no animal lived, where no one but those trained in the dark arts could feel ki.

_It was just as I thought, then._

“And now that you have lost half of your power, your back is against the wall!”

Those words grated his nerves like nothing else. With all his hate in his eyes, Kenshin glared at the idiot, “ _Why…_ does that matter?” With or without ki, he would kill this man. He would kill them all and save Tomoe!

His hand on the handle of his sword, Kenshin sprinted. His target’s eyes widened and he started to dodge, but he was too slow! Teeth bared in exhilaration, Kenshin drew his blade in perfect battoujutsu – blood spurted from his target’s chest.

A scream echoed through the forest, followed by a thud as the target hit the ground.

Kenshin flicked his wrist to shake most of the blood from his blade, noting coldly that his target wasn’t dead yet. Strange, he had killed countless men with that exact move… something wasn’t right.

His target’s chest was cut open all the way to the solar plexus.The strike hadn’t cut deep enough to kill, but it had cut through flesh and viscera – his target’s lifeblood pumped out with each gulping breath. He would die of blood loss soon enough.

Kenshin frowned and walked closer.

The idiot tried to sit up, to crawl away with desperation in his eyes.

Without a second thought, Kenshin kicked him down.

The target cried out like a wounded dog.

It didn’t matter.

The pain he caused others, the pain and revulsion Kenshin felt in his heart – none of it mattered, because…

“I will protect Tomoe’s happiness. I vowed that only yesterday,” Kenshin whispered, pressing his foot on the target’s wound, pinning him in place. “Where I am or who you are… has nothing to do with it.” Leaning all his weight on his leg, Kenshin watched his target’s eyes roll back from sheer agony. He felt the man’s broken chest crunch beneath his feet, felt his tabi sock become wet with the blood that sprouted out. “I will kill anyone who lifts a hand to stop me!”

His target wheezed like a man on his last breath.

It would be a mercy to kill the bastard right here and now… a mercy this man didn’t deserve. Kenshin glanced behind him thoughtfully. It had begun snowing again. Soon it would be difficult to follow Tomoe’s trail... Reluctantly, he released his target and held out his sword, pointing the tip right between the terrified idiot’s eyes. “Will you take me to Tomoe, or will you die? Choose, now.”

His target stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief… Before the man’s arm tensed and he grinned, “Then try this!”

A flash of movement and a pain flared in Kenshin’s shoulder.

 _Fuck!_ Kenshin cursed inwardly and cradled his injury. The bastard had thrown a metal dart into his shoulder and it had sunk at least three inches into his flesh.

“I thought so!” the man gasped proudly. “You didn’t stop a step short, you misjudged your own movements! In this forest you have lost your ki… you are not as strong. In this forest, you can’t win—”

The pain wasn’t too bad, as far as pain went – Kenshin had felt worse during his training and with this terrible hate boiling inside him, this little pain was nothing. Gritting his teeth, Kenshin grabbed the dart and tore it out.

The idiot froze in shock, reaching towards him with his arms still extended and for a second, Kenshin couldn’t see anything but those arms. “I said, WHY DOES THAT MATTER?” he screamed, and whipped his sword out of its sheath in a lightning fast draw.

His sword cut and cut, through bone and flesh and sinews. Two thuds followed as the idiot’s arms hit the ground.

The howling screams that echoed in the forests all around him were just like the cries from the hundreds of men he had killed in Kyoto, Kenshin thought numbly. It was almost familiar. And right then, instead of guilt or gut-wrenching disgust, he couldn’t feel anything but the throbbing pain in his shoulder, the coldness of snow around him, and how his toes prickled as his bloodied socks froze in the snow.

Dazed, Kenshin blinked and drew breath, struggling to focus.

His target had run off, taking advantage of his inattention.

 _Well, if the idiot was lively enough to run, he can still be of use._ Kenshin thought. After all, missing arms, bleeding out… neither of those injuries would hamper the man’s tongue. At the very least he could still give him directions to Tomoe, or tell him what he was up against.

That is, if the idiot could be properly motivated…

Hmm. Kenshin frowned and picked up the man’s separated arms from the snow and followed the bloody trail.

 

* * *

 

The idiot chose to run into a cave, of all things. Was he hoping to hide? The stupidity! Even if his hunter had been blind, deaf and half-witted, it wouldn’t have worked – the bloody trail in the fresh snow was easy to follow.

Kenshin threw the separated arms to their owner. “You forgot something.”

His target was cowering pitifully at the end of the cave. Surely even an idiot like him had to realize that there was no escape anymore?

“If you won’t take me to Tomoe, at least tell me where she is. Do it and I will give you an easy death.”  

His target tensed and met his gaze evenly, his pupils huge with shock, his breath harsh and fast. It wouldn’t be long before he died. Finally, the man spoke, “Leave the cave and head straight to your right.”

 _So even an idiot like him can see sense._ Kenshin nodded and stepped closer, his hand on his sword, ready to fulfill his end of the bargain.

“But… don’t think it’s over yet! There are three more of us left! And even if you beat the last of us, we will still win!”

 _Three more?_ Kenshin narrowed his eyes. _That’s good to know, but why is he still blustering? Just how much breath does he have left in him?_

“...shadows, who will be satisfied with nothing less than victory. Even in death, I will be a barrier to you!”

It was only then that Kenshin noticed the rope the idiot was tugging with his feet… and the barrels it lead to. He heard the sound of an ignition striking at the same time he realized what it meant.

_Oh SHIT!_

Kenshin turned tail and _ran_.

Thighs tingling from exertion, he sprinted faster than he ever had without Kenta helping him, but the cave was deep, a tunnel that blew the flames of explosion right after him. He was almost out, so very near the exit, but still too far away when the wall of fire and insane pressure caught him. He jumped and curled into a tight ball, trying to protect himself as the sound wave hit him, pushing him out of the cave like a bullet out of rifle muzzle.

It felt like someone had stabbed daggers into his ears and he gritting his teeth, barely landing on his feet in an uneven crouch.

A wave of pain echoed through him and he grunted to brace against it, waiting for the aftershocks to pass. Then he scowled and glanced behind him, noting how the cave entrance was charred black from the explosion.

“A sore loser,” he remarked out loud.

 _Huh?_  

There was something _off_ with his voice. No, not his voice, but… Gingerly, he knelt to take a fistful of snow and threw it.

_...So that’s why he said he would be barrier to me, even in death._

It wasn’t that he couldn’t hear anything, but it was impossible to tell where the sound was coming from.

_Dammit! I can’t rely on my hearing either!_

“Your ki and your hearing. You have lost two of your six senses.” A low man’s voice remarked.

 _Where?_ Kenshin turned around, hand already on his sword. _Ah, there._

A very large man, even taller and more muscular than Master, was staring at him across the small clearing, a large ax in his hands. A brute, who relied on force.

“How many times do I have to say it?” Kenshin asked, dropping into a stance. “Why does that matter?”

The ax-wielder inclined his head, a wry smile on his lips. “Here I come.”

The thing about large and strong fighters was that they were _always_ slow. No matter their strength, the length of their limbs, or how much had they trained, they wouldn’t ever be a threat unless they could land a blow, and for Kenshin, well, it had always been easy to dance around larger men’s bulk. Master had been the only exception to that rule, and that was because he had been able to enhance his speed with ki.

 _Yes, even like this, I can kill this man._ Kenshin thought, dodging the ax-wielder’s terrifyingly strong blows. After all, he had trained for years to gain speed and agility. Even without ki, even without any particular natural talent for speed – he had worked hard for years and now… it had all paid off.

It was _easy_ to predict the brute’s massive swings and sidestep them with minimal movements, waiting for a perfect chance to deliver the killing blow.

Yet, he should have guessed it wouldn’t be that easy.

He knew that these guys were prepared. They had obviously studied his abilities and worked to counter them in dishonorable ways. It hadn’t escaped Kenshin that this trap had been carefully tailored to take advantage of his weaknesses, but never in a thousand years would he have thought that _overconfidence_ would be his downfall.

It was at the point where he had finally gotten a good sense of the brute’s movements and was just getting ready to land a finishing blow, when all of a sudden, he saw a flash out of the corner of his eye.

It was through sheer _luck_ that he managed to dodge the thrown blade in time.

“Two against one,” Kenshin remarked out loud, gasping for breath – his eyes locked on the second man lurking in the trees: a silent hunter, trying to take him by surprise. It wasn’t very sporting, but then again, he hadn’t expected anything different. These bastards fought _dirty._ Rage flared inside him and he bared his teeth into a mockery of a smile. “Perfect. That will save me the time of hunting you both down.”

It was more than a little arrogant and he paid for it shortly thereafter.

Even though he could track either one of the pair, without ki – he couldn’t track them both. The brute was surprisingly nimble on his feet and even a glancing blow from that ax would crush him. The man was large enough to strike down whole trees with ease, and his ax would make short work of his measly frame.

However, the hunter didn’t waste time taking advantage of his preoccupation – his steel claw raked across Kenshin’s shoulders, shredding his skin all the way to his shoulderblades, staining his kimono with his blood. Yet, Kenshin couldn’t stop to tend to his wounds, he didn’t have the time! If he stopped for just one second, he would die and Tomoe would pay for his failure… no, no matter what, he couldn’t fail today!

Besides, though the cuts were deep, they weren’t fatal. The steel claws were nasty weapons, designed to create wounds that would be difficult to stitch and would fester easily.  But despite the pain, his arteries hadn’t been severed, nor had he lost much of the mobility of his arms – otherwise, he would have bled out and died already.

No, this was just an annoying wound on top of the other annoying wounds he had garnered today. Kenshin narrowed his eyes, his gaze locked on the hunter in the shadows. _I can’t give him an opportunity like that again, I can’t – or I’m dead meat._

_But wait… where is the brute?!_

Kenshin turned, just in time to see a fucking _tree trunk_ flying towards him as the brute charged in right after, his ax in his hand.

Too stunned to dodge, Kenshin didn’t have time to duck before the tree trunk hit him right in the forehead with the force of a hundred hammers pounding on his skull. His head flew back from the force of the strike – but it was the chance he had been waiting for, and so he swung his sword blindly, whipping it out of its sheath with all his strength and desperation, towards the brute’s legs.

The scream of pain that followed felt like the sweetest music.

_I got him!_

Clutching his ringing head with his hands, Kenshin stared ahead dazedly, but sure enough, his strike had landed – the brute was on the ground, both of his legs cut off below the knees.

_Oh good, at least he won’t be running off…_

Shaky as a newborn, Kenshin staggered through the snow, searching in vain for the hunter in the shadows. He was too far out in the open like this, vulnerable and weak, barely able to stand, much less dodge incoming blows. He needed cover and fast!

Leaning against a thick tree, he gulped for air and tried to gather his bearings.

It was a mistake.

The hunter’s claws dug deep into his right shoulder from the one direction he hadn’t prepared for – from _above_.

“So stubborn… I expected nothing less of Battousai. But I planned for you to _abandon_ your sword! The hunter gloated at him, so sure that he had already won.

It would be the bastard’s final mistake. Instead of clutching his bleeding shoulder to still the torrent of blood pouring forth, Kenshin fingers found his wakizashi. “You move around quickly,” he remarked softly and _struck_.

“AAUUUGH!”

His wakizashi sunk deep into the tree, piercing both of the hunter’s palms, his flesh, tendons and bones. _Good. This bastard won’t be running off, either._ Kenshin exhaled slowly. “I’ll kill you in a minute, so stay put.”

“I can’t get it out… damn you!” The hunter tugged his hands against the blade in vain. Nothing short of wrenching with all his power would get him free, but that would risk causing irreparable damage to his hands – no man who had sunk their whole life into their fighting skills would choose to make that sacrifice.

It was a pitiful sight, but none of these men deserved his pity or even a hint of compassion. No, this bastard and the rest of his cohorts would get nothing but pain and death from him.

“One who hides in shadows, moving about and attacking,“ Kenshin sneered. “So that’s what you really are.”

“You saw me!” the hunter gasped, and his tugging became frantic, almost manic, and worse, in his mania he started to _blabber._

Frankly, Kenshin was too tired to listen.

He was hurt and tired and he had to get to Tomoe – every second he wasted here would be dangerous for her.

He was just about to head over to finish off the brute, when the blabbering idiot tore himself free from the tree and escaped. Kenshin stared after him, blinking slowly in disbelief. _Well, with those hands, he won’t be threat to anyone ever again... I guess it doesn’t make sense to chase after him._

However, the big guy was still bleeding out behind him. The man had crawled to the edge of the clearing, propping himself against the tree, and now he was just sitting there patiently, waiting for the death to come.

“The first man said that there were three others,” Kenshin asked. “Where is the last one?”

“In the shack ahead. The girl is there too,” the brute said calmly, like they were talking about the weather.

With the last dregs of fighter’s courtesy, Kenshin inclined his head and turned to leave. It wouldn’t matter if he struck the finishing blow or not. The brute was already dead, it was just the matter of when – it could take seconds or minutes before his heart wouldn’t have enough blood to pump.

“Wait!” the brute shouted after him.

 _What is now?_ Kenshin turned tiredly.

“You forgot something! The third barrier… take this!” The brute reached under his massive bulk and pulled a lever.

Kenshin’s eyes widened in alarm… and then he saw nothing but white.

The force of the second explosion blasted him several feet backwards. He instinctively curled into a ball, trying to break the worst of his fall. When the world stopped spinning, Kenshin sobbed and struggled to keep breathing, to ride out the waves of sheer agony. His eyes, his head, his shoulders, his back, every inch of him hurt. Oh gods, oh gods, the pain – the pain!

“Ughhh…” Kenshin groaned weakly, shakily letting go of his knees and simply laying there for a moment on the sweet, soft coolness of snow.

The echoes of torment rang through him, each wave growing less and less until it receded to a dull, throbbing ache, pain shooting out up again with every single one of his movements…  but his eyes were worse, the blinding flash had robbed most of his vision. All he could see were hazy, dark shadows in white.

_...But I can’t give up._

_No matter how much it hurt, how difficult… I have to stand up._

_Yes, for Tomoe._

Tomoe was there, just ahead, and the last of these bastards was there with her. That man would have heard the explosions – a sure sign that his comrades had lost. What would stop him from striking down an unarmed woman, now that she had so self-evidently outlived her usefulness?

Turning onto his stomach, Kenshin crawled through the snow, blindly searching for his sword. He couldn’t see anything but hazy lumps of darkness, but surely one of them had to be the katana he had thrown forward to score a hit on that ax-wielder. Yes, there was one of the brute’s separated feet, there was his frozen bloodtrail... and _there_.

His fingers curling around the cold steel, Kenshin exhaled in relief.

Slowly, he gathered his legs under him and propped himself up with his sword. His legs shook pitifully, his balance was shot and so were his hearing and vision. He was a wreck, running on nothing but adrenaline and sheer, vicious hate, but he was all that Tomoe had… and he couldn’t fail, not anymore than he had already failed.

“Tomoe, wait for me!” Kenshin gasped out loud and began to walk.

Using his sword as a crutch, he limped one step after another, slowly making his way through the snowy forest.

Every step he took _hurt_.

It was difficult to keep his balance, to ignore the dizziness clouding his every thought and keep going – but he had no choice. He had to save Tomoe, he had to! With his fury driving him, he could still save her if he just hurried!

Ahead of him, shadows receded… It was another clearing?

“The woman is useless to me. I will get her out of the way…” a deep man’s voice muttered out loud.

It was impossible to pinpoint exactly where it had come from, but it was close. He had gotten here none too soon, then. Taking a deep breath to collect himself, Kenshin stepped out into the open. “I’m taking Tomoe back.”

“What?” the voice bit out.

In the middle of the plain of whiteness, there was one dark shape that was roughly a man’s size, but Kenshin couldn’t make out any details, not about the man’s looks or his chosen fighting style.

It didn’t matter.

As hurt and exhausted as he was, dodging wouldn’t be easy. The best he could do was to rely on his instincts and attack when the shade came close enough to strike.

Luckily, this last man was just as stupid as the rest of them, too interested in hearing his own voice. With some relief, Kenshin allowed the man to bluster, knowing that every extra second he gained would help him to recover his sight.

Then the shade shouted, “Take this! Muteki style fist-fighting! Gou fu baku! ” And in the blink of an eye, the shade was in front of him.

Kenshin drew his sword in perfect battoujutsu.

It was too late.

The shade jabbed him straight in the throat with enough force to throw him back. On instinct, Kenshin inhaled and _choked_ from the stabbing pain. Oh gods, the pain! Coughing madly, he staggered away, striking his sword into the ground to keep his balance.

“… your chance of beating me is nil!” the shade boasted.

“Even if my body and my senses are wrecked…” Kenshin wheezed in rage, “if I concentrate all my strength on the point of attack, that’s all I need.”

Then the bastard was there again, dancing just out of reach, delighting in delivering strikes to Kenshin’s mid-drift, to his wounded shoulders, to every weak spot he had learned to defend from Master’s blows as a child. It was a torturous mockery of a fight, as the bastard took his time showing him just how desperately outmatched he truly was against that lightning fast precision.

Perhaps it was alright.

His stance was broken and he couldn’t distinguish the bruising hits from the rest of his injuries. He hurt too badly. All the elegance and carefully trained responses Master had spent years beating into him were useless.

The whole time, the bastard taunted him, trying to break his spirit by pointing out why he couldn’t win.

And little by little, Kenshin started to understand: he was too hurt, too numb to fight properly… all he had was his rage and his need to save Tomoe. If he continued like this, he had no chance at all. But how could he attack a target he couldn’t see?

_Unless…_

_Yes, there is one sure way to know where he will be._ Kenshin whispered softly, “So, I can’t win… you are right about that.”

_In a fight like this… the only way to win is to give up._

If he couldn’t rely on his senses, if he couldn’t protect himself like Master had taught him… then, yes, for Tomoe, he would sacrifice himself and risk it all for one last strike. After all, if he could kill this man, then the threat against Tomoe would be dealt with and she would be saved. She could live and survive to see the era that Katsura-san and others were building.

_Only, I can’t be there with her…_

But maybe that was only right. He was a broken, tainted man – a half-insane murderer.

_And she… she is everything to me._

Put like that, it was no choice at all. Kenshin took a deep breath and settled into an open, reckless stance: no defenses at all, his katana held high, ready for the most basic strike of all, the kesarigi.

“Here I come.” Kenshin _sprinted_.

There, just ahead of him… a darker spot, yes!

He jumped and changed his grip on the hilt of his sword to the overhead slash, chanting in his mind: _come and take the chance I’m giving you, you damn bastard! Come… come to your death!_

And then the shadow moved in…

Kenshin closed his eyes and struck with all his strength, feeling his blade cut through cloth, flesh, and bone. _Yes! Cut! Cut! Cut!_ He delighted in the sensation, knowing he had won.

But where was the bastard’s answering strike?

Suddenly, the scent of blood fogged his nostrils, a sickeningly sweet scent, but even that wasn’t enough to overpower the faint hint of white plum…

_…What?_

Eyes flying wide open, Kenshin stared at a white shade holding the dark in place – and saw his sword slashing through them both.

_No…_

The white shadow fell to the ground and Kenshin’s heart skipped a beat, his knees dropping out from under him.

_No, no..._

The smell of white plum blossoms was so familiar, and so was the soft fabric, the silky hair… Kenshin gasped raggedly, gathering her into his arms like a broken doll.

_No, no, no, this can’t be happening._

“Tomoe…”

She was wheezing, a terrible wet, red stain spreading across her chest...

“Tomoe.”

Her desperate gulps for air sounded terrible – it was the wet, lurching sound of blood flooding into her lungs, drowning her. She coughed and wet matter flew out, hitting his hands.

It was the worst sound he had ever heard. Something rose up inside him, blocking his throat, as he held her gently, tears gathering in his eyes. “Tomoe… why?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t, not with the blood pouring out of her mouth, but she raised her hand to trace his cheek, like she had always done… but this time, instead of her comforting touch, instead of her gentle, nimble fingers, Kenshin felt sharp steel cutting into his flesh. Even so, it was her touch and so he leaned into it, feeling her love in that simple motion.

He didn’t need to be able to see to know that she was smiling.

She fell slack in his arms, her wheezing growing fainter… and then there was only silence.

Kenshin blinked, trying to clear his hazy vision.

“To…”

The blurry figure wasn’t any clearer, but his heart knew what his eyes couldn’t see – her large, soulful eyes, her pale skin, her beautiful red lips…

“mo…”

She was _smiling_.

“e….”

But she was dead.

“TOMOE!!!”

The scream rose from deep inside his chest, breaking through all his modest reserve, raw and terrible, echoing through the forest around him like a tengu’s screech. Kenshin squeezed her tight in his arms and buried his face in her hair, letting his tears flow freely. He cried, and cried and cried, screaming his pain to the world like a man with nothing left to lose. Time held no meaning, neither did his pain or the freezing coldness all around him, nothing mattered, because she was dead. Dead. DEAD!

When he finally closed his eyes, drawing in the scent of her hair, her blood, and her white plum blossom perfume, pressing them into his memory… He knew there was nothing left for him to life for.

The sweet nothingness of darkness pulled at him and he welcomed it with open arms.

 

* * *

 

“Kido-san, there is a message for you.”

“Hmm?”   

“It’s from Kyoto.”

“Ah,” the man known as Kido frowned, accepting the message that the skittish maid handed to him, dismissing her with a quick hand motion. When he was alone, he unfolded the letter and began to read.

The news was worrying.

The Bakufu’s dark shadows, the terrifying Yaminobu, whose existence was so secret that only the highest ranking members of the government had even heard the name, had finally made their move. Worse, instead of coming for the head of the snake like he had assumed and taken precautions for, they had struck the boy.

But in doing so, they had given him the last piece of the puzzle.

Only three men, Iizuka, Katagai, and himself, had known where the boy was hiding. He had kept his affairs close to the chest, and Katagai had been found dead three weeks ago... which left only Iizuka.

The rat.

_So, finally, I have my traitor._

Kido smiled and called out to his bodyguard, “Please, send a message to the new man, Shishio. I have a job for him.”

 

* * *

 

“He has lost so much blood… all these wounds, it’s a miracle he is still alive. Here, help me turn him,” a low, older man’s voice rumbled.

“Hnn, his fingers and toes are frostbitten, too,” a woman observed. “Wouldn’t it be better to cut them off, instead of risking infection?”

“Perhaps, but as he is right now, it could prove to be too much for him. Let’s wait and see. Keep scrubbing the dying skin daily and if blood rot sets in… well, then we have no other choice, do we?”

“As you say,” the woman concurred. “That ugly gash in his shoulder hasn’t stopped bleeding yet.”

“It’s a difficult one to stitch right,” the man admitted. “The skin is pulled too tight. If it heals, it will scar badly.”    

The woman sighed unhappily, before asking softly, “Can he even make it?”

“If his fever doesn’t kill him, or the blood loss… yes, he has a chance. But that bump on his head worries me the most. A direct hit to the head like that is a sure sign of a concussion. Notice how he just drifts in and out of consciousness, never waking properly? If he survives… it will be a miracle if he comes out of this right in the head. Bad concussions are risky like that. Worse, I have no way of telling if he is bleeding inside his skull or not.”

“His eyes! Look!” the woman gasped. “I think he is awake.”

The man scoffed. “Awake? Maybe… maybe not. Coherent? I doubt it.”

Something dark leaned over him, blocking the light and commanding gently, “Look at me, boy.”

He tried, but it hurt… Oh god, how it _hurt._

“See? His pupils don’t follow at all.” The shadow left. “Well, only time will tell. Just sleep, boy. Sleep.”

 

* * *

 

“Here, drink this…” A strong arm propped him upright, and poured something warm into his mouth.

He coughed and spluttered, too tired, too hurt to swallow.

“Easy now. Take it slowly,” the woman’s voice murmured in his ear, like she was soothing a child, or a wild animal. All the while she rubbed his throat and forced him to swallow. “It’s alright. It’s alright. Just take it slow and eat, yes, just like that. You need to eat to regain your strength.”

_Alright..? Tomoe is dead! How could it ever be alright?_

“Just eat and survive. You can do it.”

_Survive..?_

_Why should I survive?_

_Tomoe is dead!_

Yet, he he couldn’t stop her and some of the the rich, disgusting broth made it down his throat, forcing him to keep swallowing lest he choke. The woman didn’t relent and poured more broth in his mouth.

Finally it was over, and the woman lowered him onto his back, wiping his face with a towel. “There, there… it’s alright. Just sleep now.”

Too tired to question her, he closed his eyes. The dreams pulled him back into the darkness, back to the dreams of blood, screams, white plum scent… and _her_ frozen smile, eternally still in death.

 

* * *

 

“Here, I took this from her and washed the worst of the blood away. It would have been a shame to see it burn – the embroidery is so beautiful. Did she stitch them herself?” the woman asked, before huffing fondly. “What am I saying, of course she did. She was the type of a woman who would have excelled at delicate needlework.”

Seeing no answer forthcoming, she laid down the fabric next to his hand, close enough that he could feel the its softness.

The woman cleared her throat. “We burned her today. A sad affair, but it couldn’t be postponed any longer. It isn’t right for the dead to lie cut open like that – it’s disrespectful. You had the right to be there, but like this, how could you have?”

Some feet away, small figures rushed past them, their small legs thumping on the floor.

The woman waited for them to go, before remarking with her low, scratchy voice. “I can’t even tell if you are there anymore. Perhaps, it would have been better if we had been too late… Even the good doctor can’t say if you will make it.”

“I dare say there are many people who would be happier if you had died,” the woman scoffed wryly. “Did you know that there was a boy huddled over you when we found you? He dashed into the forest the second he saw us, but there was a knife that hadn’t gotten buried under the new snow… perhaps the boy, too, wanted you dead, but couldn’t bring himself the finish you off.”

A certain wary disgust entered her tone. “You should thank your luck that my husband was there. Small and slight as you are to carry… I don’t know if I would have chosen to save you. You know, I knew from the start that you were a killer. There was a cold look to your eyes, utterly unnatural for a boy your age.”

“Frankly, from what my aunt told me about you in her letters, I didn’t want to have anything to do with you. But that girl, Tomoe – she, I liked. Whatever she saw in you, I couldn’t understand. But then you came and saved my boys from the fever...” She paused, clearing her throat. “I guess I owe you. But after this, my debt to you is paid, you understand?”

“I don’t know if I am wasting my time talking to you, pathetic sight that you are. Those unnatural eyes of yours just don’t follow,” she said sourly. “But if you hear me, then know Tomoe is dead and burned… and you are not. So now, it’s your duty to keep going. Fight and survive. If not for yourself, then do it for her sake. She is alright now, in a better place.”

A warm hand brushed his sweaty bangs aside, stroking his brow. “It’s alright, it’s alright now.”

 

* * *

 

The more Kido learned of Iizuka’s deceptions, the angrier he became at himself. He had _trusted_ the man, appreciated his silent competence, confidence, even his slyness and his deft eye, and had allowed the traitor to worm himself into his inner circle.

It was only around the Ikeda-ya crisis that Kido had began to suspect that there was someone close to him who was intent on removing his best assets, the power and influence he had garnered… and to undermine the Choshuu Ishin Shishi’s work.

After all, there were very, very few people who _knew_ enough to hurt him like that.

But when Himura’s cover had frayed so thin that even the Shinsengumi knew about his prized assassin… He had known then that they had a rat and so he had pulled his best resources to safety. After all, the boy was an important asset, nearly irreplaceable; the strength of Hiten Mitsurugi and his true loyalty to the cause.   

And yet, it hadn’t been enough. Now Kido had to find out if there was anything he could save from the mess.

At the end of summer, he had sent the boy to lay low in the relative safety of the countryside. Otsu was a good place. It was close enough to Kyoto that if needed, the boy could be called back on short notice… but more importantly, it was a place where Kido could discreetly monitor his asset through contacts that no one among the Choshuu men knew he had.

Kido scoffed dryly; he found it amusing that most men of the samurai class, the elders and influential power players among the Ishin Shishi, still didn’t pay attention to the obvious and constantly underestimated intelligence and usefulness of the fairer sex.

Well, it was to his advantage. Some of his best information came from his lover Ikumatsu and her friends working in Gion and Shimabara.

However, the lady he was on his way to meet now was somewhat different. She was one of his oldest contacts, an intelligent and discreet friend who would never betray him. Kido slid the sliding door open, noticing with certain delight that she had already prepared tea. Gracefully, he bowed to her and settled across her in proper seiza.

“So you finally show your face here again, Katsura-san… or would you prefer to use your new name?” the old woman remarked calmly, meeting his gaze without a hint of surprise.

“I’m pleased to see you are in good health, Okami-san.” Kido inclined his head. “And when it comes to my name, Kido Takayoshi will do. Katsura Kogoro is missing and will never return.”  

Okami-san nodded and poured tea for him.

Accepting the cup she handed to him, Kido tasted the drink and paid his compliments as was proper, following polite routine to the letter. It was better this way, as it gave her time to assess him for herself – to take account of the changes this difficult half-year in hiding had brought his features. It was a necessary scrutiny, for nothing was as fleeting and as valuable as trust among men and women who played the dangerous game of power and influence.

Finally, Kido decided to break the silence. “The message you sent arrived safely.”

“So I assumed,” Okami-san agreed. “Did you uncover the traitor?”

“Yes, he has been taken care of.”

“Good.”

Okami-san sipped her tea calmly and he followed her example. It was good green sencha, remarkably well preserved to have a refined aroma even in early days of the new year.

“My niece sent me another message. Himura-kun is recovering and the doctor predicts he will survive if he pulls through the fever. He received several wounds, to his shoulders, arms, chest, and back – most of them just muscle wounds, but they were difficult to stitch right. The doctor worries about the amount of blood he lost, and the possibility of infection. When it comes to the frostbite in Himura-kun fingers and toes, those have started recovering nicely. However, the same can’t be said for Himura-kun’s concussion. He has yet to gain any coherency. Thankfully, it doesn’t look like he has bled inside his skull, but overall, it doesn’t look good.”

It was worse than he had thought, then. Kido sighed. “I see.”

Even if the boy woke up, it was impossible to know if he would ever be useful again. Kido, too, knew about concussions. Out of all injuries, they were the most unpredictable and dangerous. Men waking from long bouts of unconsciousness weren’t necessarily the same afterwards. Sometimes, it was like something had become addled in them, leaving them simple or highly volatile in temper.

Okami-san seemed pensive as well.

“And the girl, Tomoe?” Kido asked softly.

“Cremated. They found her dead in Himura-kun’s arms. My niece says it was a horrifying scene, like something out of a tragic play.”

Kido frowned, circling his teacup’s brim with his thumb.

“What is it?” Okami-san inquired, noting his telltale look.

“The girl was a mole, according to Iizuka’s notes. The traitor slipped her into our ranks, settled her close to Himura. I was so worried about the boy’s state of mind that I didn’t think twice. I don’t know what her true purpose was, but she was in contact with the Yaminobu.”

“Hmm, was she now? I didn’t peg her for dishonest.”

“She had been engaged to one Kiyosato Akira, the Mimawarigumi guard the boy killed a year ago,” Kido explained.

“Ah, revenge.” Okami-san nodded. “Yes, that I can see. A young woman with a grieving heart and a duty to avenge her fiance’s misfortune… set close to a lonely boy lost in madness. I wasn’t surprised they fell in love. Both, just pawns in this game.”

Silence fell between them.

There wasn’t much Kido could say in response. After all, they both knew he had been the puppetmaster pulling half of the strings that lead to that ghastly scene. He had played the game carefully, trying to save the boy… and the Bakufu’s Yaminobu had used the girl, hoping to create a weakness to exploit.

Truthfully, now that he could see the entirety of the plot, Kido could almost _admire_ the crafty mind behind it.

Shaking his head, Kido asking quietly, “And how is your niece?”

Allowing the change in topic, Okami-san sighed, “Midori-san is fine enough. Unhappy with me, but that is nothing new. She will look after the boy until he is well again. I will call for you if I get any useful news.”

Kido nodded and drained the last of his tea; it had turned bitter.

Or perhaps, the unpleasantness was caused by the topic.

He had set Kenshin aside and cut all contact with him, trying desperately to weed out the traitors in his inner circle. He hadn’t even been able to consider returning to Kyoto before he had secured his back… and he had lost half a year in this endeavor, sacrificed far too much. It was unacceptable. This plot had struck far too close home.

 

* * *

 

The minute he woke up, Kenshin knew that everything was wrong with the world. He was lying on a soft mattress, the fire crackled close by emitting a soft warmth… but his eyes were dry like sand, his throat parched and _everything_ hurt.

His back, arms... hell, even his head was pounding.

But that wasn’t the problem. He knew pain – it would come and go, it always had. Pain in his body didn’t matter, not compared to the crushing pain in his heart.

Tomoe was _dead_.

He knew it.

It was carved forever into his mind; the hazy image of her frozen smile and her white plum scent mixed with blood.

During that last charge, she had jumped in front of his sword, to hold off his enemy… and he had killed her. The knowledge made him want to die – dying would have been far better than feeling this loss, this emptiness in her absence. If someone had to die in that cursed forest, it should have been him. He was the killer, the tainted and broken failure of a man. And what a failure he was! He had gone there to save her, but she had saved him instead.

He wanted to cry, but he had no tears left.

It hurt… it hurt so much, but he was so empty.

There was nothing left in him.

He tried to draw breath, but it hurt too.

Everything was so wrong.

Because she… she was not there.

He knew it.

Her familiar, steadying ki presence wasn’t there anymore. Oh, there were others close by, flickers of ki moving close by, but none of them were _hers_.  

Why did he even bother trying to breathe?

It was so difficult and she was not there anymore.

Then, he felt it. A slight, almost hesitant nudge, a wave of coldness brushing against him.

_Oh… the spirit._

Kenshin had almost forgotten the spirit.

_The petting feel._

Somehow, that hurt too. It wasn’t comforting, it was just ki moving inside him in a stroking motion. What use was it? What use was the ki if he couldn’t even use it to save her?!

Bitter rage flooded his mind and Kenshin shoved the spirit aside. He didn’t want the comfort it offered. He didn’t _deserve_ it, not anymore. Why should he be comforted when Tomoe couldn’t feel any comfort ever again?

And right now, even _thinking_ hurt.

Gods, everything hurt so much and he was so tired… but he couldn’t rest, not like this. So slowly, Kenshin tried to pry open his dry eyes, only to face the sharp, stabbing pain of daylight shining in the house. He struggled to raise his hand, just to cover his tearing eyes, but trying to move hurt too much for him to manage it.

So he blinked and blinked, trying to work past the shock of sudden brightness until he could actually see something.

Finally, he could make out the form of a familiar looking ceiling. It was almost like home, but not quite… nonetheless, he had seen it before. Frowning in thought, Kenshin turned his head to his right.

Tomoe’s shawl was neatly folded next to his pillow. For a moment, he yearned to rub it against his cheek, to draw in her scent that was lingering in the soft fabric. She had loved that shawl. She had spend hours upon hours embroidering those tiny flowers, the white plum blossoms and irises that she had liked. Even now, he could see her love on that shawl… but wait, what was that stain?

In the light blue fabric, there was something darker, almost like blood…

 _...Oh._ He swallowed in realization. Right on her beautiful needlework was an ugly and disgusting stain – his work.

_I killed her._

The knowledge hurt worse than a thousand stab wounds.

“Hey, Kenshin-san! You are finally awake!” a cheerful voice chirped right beside him.  

It was Aimi-chan.

_So that’s where I am._

“Mom! Kenshin-san is awake!” she yelled over her shoulder, turning her curious eyes to him, a hopeful smile shining on her lips.

But right at that moment, the only thing he could think was: _why is she smiling?_

There was nothing to smile about, not anymore. Tomoe was dead. Kenshin turned his face in the other direction, trying to swallow the bile that was rising in his throat. A bitter rage twisted in his gut. No one should be smiling, not right now.

At least, not to him.

He was nothing but a filthy murderer.

“Kenshin-san, why won’t you look at me?” Aimi-chan asked, her tone quivering with hesitation.

Thankfully, an older woman’s gruff voice cut in, sparing him from answering. “Aimi-chan, go out and play. Now.”

“But, mom… why won’t Kenshin-san look at me?”

“Just go.”  

Finally, the small presence turned to leave, soft footsteps padding across the wooden floor. The door slid open, bringing in a wave of fresh, winter air.

Then, they were alone.

“So, you are awake at long last,” Midori-san said pointedly.

Kenshin sighed softly, but turned to meet Midori-san’s gaze. Her eyes were harsh, worried… but maybe she saw something, because for just a second her eyes softened in understanding and she nodded once.

She glanced at the door, where her little girl had just left.

“The children saved your life, you know. They went to your house that day, like we had agreed earlier, but instead of you, all the found was an empty house. They were just heading back home, when Ichirou saw that boy who had hit him before, Tomoe’s brother, I believe you said. He was going somewhere and for curiosity’s sake, my kids decided to follow.”  

Her scratchy voice was grating and Kenshin turned his head again, hoping she would get the hint. He didn’t want any company, nor explanations, he just wanted to be left alone.

Midori scoffed and touched his brow with the back of her hand. It was a cool, clinical touch, nothing else. “The fever has left, thank the gods.”

But instead of leaving him like he wanted, he heard her clothes rustling as she settled to sit by his side.

“The kids followed that boy right to the border of cursed forest. It’s not a good place and I have forbidden them from going there, they knew that damn well. Aimi-chan found a map lying in the snow, just as they were debating whether they should go against my warnings.” Her voice turned distinctly sour. “I’d have flayed their hides if they had. Thank god I didn’t need to, a loud bang scared them all the way back home with their tails between their legs.”

“Lucky for you, I know how to read. Most of the farmers here don’t. I am perhaps the only person in this area who could have understood that map… and yet, if me and Kichirou had been any later, you would have died along with Tomoe. It was a close call as it was.”

Kenshin squeezed his eyes shut, looking away. If his throat wasn’t so sore, he would have snapped and told her that it would have been better if they had left him to die.

Dying would have been better than this.

“Boy, there is nothing glorious about death,” Midori said to him, reading his face like an open book. “If not for yourself, then live for her. Do you really think she would have wanted you to die? Are you that stupid?”

The words slashed deep, tearing through his hazy thoughts...

And suddenly, Kenshin couldn't help remembering how Tomoe had jumped in between him and the last bastard. She would have seen his strike, and still, she had thrown herself in harm’s way… to protect him. Wishing for death now, was there anything worse he could do to tarnish her sacrifice?

The guilt turned his stomach, raising bile on his tongue.

Tomoe had given her life, just so he could live. And now, no matter how much it hurt or how unworthy he was, he _had_ to keep going – for her sake.

So, when Midori-san brought him a bowl of broth and lifted his head to feed the thick, dark concoction to him, he didn’t protest.

The taste was utterly abominable, but he tried to drink it as well as he could.

“It tastes horrible,” Midori murmured in his ear. “I know no one would eat this if they had another choice, but you _must_ eat. You have lost a great deal of blood and your body needs to replenish it.”

In all honestly, Kenshin didn’t know if he wanted to get better, but for Tomoe… he would struggle.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 06.05.2016.


	16. Of hate, forgiveness and survival

# Chapter 29.  Of hate, forgiveness and survival

 

In the following days, Kenshin came to wake more often and for longer periods of time. His healing was slow going, even with Midori-san’s expert care… but for Tomoe, he struggled.

The children were worried for him and wanted him to get better, but their enthusiasm was very tiresome. Frankly, Kenshin couldn’t even muster the energy to tell them off. Midori-san seemed to notice and kept her children away from his corner of the house. However, this didn’t mean that he was allowed to brood in silence; if Midori-san wasn’t at his bedside, then it was her husband, Kichirou, keeping him company, telling jokes and funny anecdotes from their everyday lives.

Kenshin didn’t want to hear of their happiness, or see them enjoying their family meal. He didn’t want to notice the sun rising and setting... that despite his world having been overturned, the rest of the world steadily kept on going.

It would have been far easier to close his eyes and fall into an eternal sleep.

And yet, Tomoe had given her life to save his… and no matter how tempting it was to follow after her, he couldn’t spit on her sacrifice.

So Kenshin ate, drank, and rested.

In his better moments, he could admit – if only to himself – that he was grateful for his neighbors’ help. They had found him on death’s door, carried him back, fetched the village doctor, and even now, they were scarily intent on nursing him back to health. More importantly, they had done their best for Tomoe, too. While he had been sick, they had brought back her body, prepared her for funeral rites, and burned her as was proper.

Even if he hadn’t been able to say goodbye to her, Kenshin knew she had been looked after just as well as he had been.

And for that, he would be ever grateful.

Midori-san had even saved Tomoe’s shawl for him to remember her by. He could appreciate the thought, even if seeing it made the pit of his stomach lurch with guilt and his heart ache with a terrible longing. But then again, the shawl was a tangible reminder of why he had to survive, to struggle with his pain… alone.

Or, as alone as an unnatural freak like him could ever be.

Ever since he woke up, Kenta had become restless on its side of the wall. It was anxiously trying to comfort him, offer any help it could. Kenshin kept rebuffing its efforts; he didn’t want any comfort or help. For his failure to protect Tomoe, for killing the person he cared for most in the entire world – he deserved every bit of his pain.

Some days later, the village doctor came to check on his wounds. For some reason, the old man was _surprised_ that Kenshin was not only awake, but coherent. However, when he asked the doctor about it, the doctor explained that he had been unconscious for days and they had doubts about whether he would ever wake properly, or retain all his mental faculties.

Truthfully, Kenshin didn’t know what to think of that. While dying didn’t phase him... being robbed of his mind was different. The very thought brought chills to his skin.

However, the doctor assured him that it wasn’t something to stress about. After all, he had woken up and he hadn’t noticed anything strange, had he? The doctor then proceeded to remove the stitches from a couple of the smaller wounds in Kenshin’s back and arms. The large claw wounds in his shoulders were left alone, as the stitches were all that was holding the slowly healing strips of skin and scabbed-over gouges together. The doctor washed the wound carefully, poking around it, trying to find signs of pus or blood-rot. Thankfully, it seemed that the fever had burned away any infection.

When it came to his lesser injuries, namely the frostbite in his fingers and toes, well… quite a bit of skin had died and been rubbed off, along with all of his hard-won callouses. However, under the bandages his fingers seemed alright. Nastily red and raw for sure, but fully functional. If he kept them clean and wrapped up, they would recover in time.  

It was the fourteenth day of the new year, a full fortnight since Tomoe’s death, until Kenshin was finally well enough to sit up and eat breakfast under his own strength. The meal was simple miso and rice, bland but easy enough to stomach, and it was a major step up from the terrible gruel Midori-san had fed him to treat his anemia. For some reason, though, it felt wrong to eat such good, basic food. The taste was far too similar to the delicious dishes Tomoe had cooked and he didn’t deserve any enjoyment, not anymore.

He just… wanted to get home, to lick his wounds in peace, and find out why this had happened. Why had Tomoe gone into that accursed forest in the first place? As he lay there, awake but unable to move or do anything other than stare at the ceiling, Kenshin had run through his hazy memories time and time again – the more he thought, tried to figure out her motivations, her reasons… the _less_ he understood.

His own failures were the most at fault, of that Kenshin was acutely aware. But still, it kept haunting him; if she had never left that morning… If she had told him what she knew, could things have gone differently?

Originally, he had assumed the bastards had taken her brother and she had left to bargain for Enishi’s life. But given what Midori-san had told him, Enishi had followed him to the forest under his own free will and disappeared afterwards. So obviously, there was something he was missing, a critical piece of the puzzle that would align all the rest.

Perhaps it was useless, this late in the chain of events, but he just… he needed to find out, to understand _how_ it had all gone so horribly wrong.

So Kenshin thanked them, the gruff Midori-san, her jovial husband Kichirou, and bade his farewells. The kids were especially saddened to see him go. The tenacious Ichirou and his brave brother Noburou managed to hold their composure admirably, but Aimi-chan burst into tears, wailing loudly that she didn’t want him to leave.

Kenshin wasn’t surprised.

However, he didn’t have any joy left, not even a hint of a smile, with which to comfort her. The best he managed was a solemn nod, before he turned and left without looking back.

Tomoe’s ashes under his arm, dressed in his stained and shabbily patched clothes, mere rags that only a beggar would wear, he trudged down the snow-trodden path. Tomoe’s shawl was wrapped around his neck for warmth. Both of his swords sat in his sash, hitting his shins as he limped forward awkwardly, careful of his raw and aching toes.

If anyone had come across him on the road, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they had sidestepped him in distaste.

He was a mess and he knew it.

Just this morning, he had seen his reflection in his tea… and seen the new decoration on his face, the scabbed cut running across the old scar on his left cheek.

Gingerly, he raised his hand to caress it.

Tomoe had cut it with her last strength. It was the last gift she had given him, a reminder of his failures.

How very fitting; two of his most horrific failures bound together and etched on his face for the rest of his life.

It was almost ironic.

He had tried to save that young man, but in doing so he had only bolstered the man’s fighting spirit up to the point that he had no other choice but to kill him. Worse, he had even failed to give him a clean death. And now, his mistakes had lead to Tomoe’s death. The one person he loved more than life itself had died by his own two hands. And what a painful death it had been…

The wet, lurching sound as she had struggled to breathe had followed him into his nightmares. Even now, the memory was fresh – like it had happened hours ago, instead of weeks.

Kenshin sniffled, reaching to wipe his nose with his sleeve.

The frosty air made him shiver, seeping into his flesh through his ragged clothes and needling his raw skin. Every step he took seemed to disagree with his barely healed wounds, pulling on his stitches painfully.

It didn’t matter.

He just… needed to get answers.

Their house was cold and empty, which suited Kenshin just fine. Absentmindedly, he gathered the firewood from the basket next to the door and started a fire. With his bandaged hands, it took some doing to get a proper spark from the flint, but when it was done… for a moment, he just sat there, trying to gather his bearings.

Exhaustion tugged at his eyelids and he yawned, reflexively covering his mouth with his hand. It was ridiculous how weak he was. Walking just a couple of miles had made him ready to pass out and sleep for a week.

Wind blowing in from the window slits startled him awake, flipping the pages of the diary left open on the table.

 _That diary…_ Kenshin stared at it blankly for a moment.

Why was it here? Of all her possessions, Tomoe had valued it the most. She had written in it frequently, and even when wasn’t writing in it, the book was never far from her. He couldn’t even count how many times he had seen her holding it.

To be perfectly honest, while he _had_ been curious at times… he had never even considered breaking her trust and violating her privacy by reading it.

_...But she wrote something in it right after Enishi’s visit, didn’t she?_

Kenshin looked aside, clenching his hands into fists, torn by his need to know and his loyalty to her memory. He knew she hadn’t wanted him to read her diary. She had always kept it close or covered it, so that he wouldn’t see anything even by accident.

Yet there it was now, laying open on the desk, its pages flapping gently in the wind.

_Why?_

As stiff as an old man, Kenshin clambered to his feet. The answers he needed, the missing pieces of the puzzle – the best chance he had for finding out why she had left alone was in that book.

And… she was dead.

He needed to know _why_.

For the first time, he trailed his fingers on the tightly bound paper, feeling how the edges were worn soft from her touch. Even now, he remembered vividly how she always carried this diary in her kimono folds, just over her bosom.

The mental image made his heart ache.

To remember her so, to see her beautiful and serene visage in front of his mind’s eye, to feel her kindness, her caring heart and core of inner strength, which he had always leaned on… it was like he had been transported into heaven.

Kenshin wanted to cry, but he couldn’t.

He was empty.

It felt like sacrilege to open her diary, so he opened it from the end, leafing through empty pages for the last entry. He wouldn’t read more than he needed to... and there is was, the last day of the year:

_Enishi came to visit us today. I was surprised to see him, but also glad, for I have missed him dearly. He told me worrying news; like me, he left home a year ago. He refused to tell me who had been looking after him for all that time, but when he told me that “Tenchuu is finally coming for Battousai,” I knew. It’s those men. They won’t let me leave their grasp. Enishi relayed their message, telling me to come and meet them in a mountain cabin on the day of the New Year._

_What should I do?_

_Those men caught my foolish, blind little brother in their web. They have lured him to their side, taking advantage of his stubbornly childish way of seeing the world only in black and white. What has he been told? Is it the same tale I heard, about evil, cruel men that needed to be brought to justice?_

_I tried to push him to return to Edo, to abandon his empty revenge. That rage was mine, not his… I should have known it wouldn’t work. Like always, Enishi refused to listen to reason and left in anger._

_How can I save him?_

_No matter what I hoped, those men won’t let me go. Why? Why can’t they see he is no longer a threat? It has been so long. He is a different man now! And yet, they came for him still. They hold my foolish little brother as a hostage to secure my loyalty. What can I do?_  

 

Kenshin didn’t know what to think, this was all too confusing. Her words didn’t solve the mystery, they only gave him more questions! Nothing in this made sense. Who were those men? Assassins for sure, but what else? Secure her loyalty? Had Tomoe known them?

 _Should I read more?_ Kenshin hesitated, clutching the diary in his hands. It felt wrong to invade her private thoughts, but…

Slowly, he turned the page backwards, but instead of an conventional entry, there was a torn piece of paper slipped in between the pages – a letter?

 

_Kenshin,_

_Please, forgive me._

_I must leave you. I left this diary with you so that you could seek understanding of my actions. Those men won’t let me go, nor will they relinquish their hold on Enishi, not before I tell them of your weaknesses. Fear not, it won’t be the truth. I shall try my best to lead them astray. I don’t know if it will work… but it’s the only chance we have._

_Even without me, you can survive. You must survive._

_Kenshin, you are my second love. I hated you, but now I love you, the killer and the gentle soul_ – _sword and heart in one shell._

_You will kill again._

_I know you won’t do it out of your own desire, but to protect, to save many more than you will slay._

_I forgive you._

_Your wife,_

_Tomoe._

 

It was hard to breathe after reading those stark words. Kenshin gasped softly, squeezing his eyes shut. He had known that she loved him, he hadn’t had any doubts about that. But to read it on paper, right now… it hurt. Especially those last words: “I forgive you.”

Forgiveness…

_I killed her!_

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, not any bit of it! But still she had saved him, time and time again. She had given him back his sanity, brought back his happiness, the ability to find joy in simple things. She had even given him a new resolution for why he should keep fighting… and now, she forgave him?

Kenshin hiccupped softly. Gods, it hurt so much, but he couldn’t cry. He _wanted_ to, but he had no tears left.

Never, ever had he felt so unworthy of her love.

He was tainted by blood, a miserable failure of a man. Weak. He hadn’t been even be able to keep his word to her. How could she have loved him so? What had she seen in him? Why would she forgive him?

Why had she hated him?

Why had those bastards had a hold on her? What had happened?

He was so confused! But she had given him her diary so that he could seek understanding, and so he leafed his way back to the beginning. It had been a fool’s hope that he could understand her reasons based only on the very last entry. No, all it had given him were a thousand more questions.

So he read about her time in Edo, long entries detailing her daily life, her hopes, joys, and worries. She had been the only woman in a household of men for the longest time. After her mother’s death, her father had become distant and buried himself in his work. In his place, his colleagues’ wives and other women among their family friends had taken her under their wing, instructed her on how to behave as was expected of a young lady from a good house. Their disapproving frowns, high expectations, and constant disappointment over her slightest failures had pushed her to grow into her calm, reserved manners.

She had cared for her baby brother almost like he was her child. She had taken pride in him, in his successes and joys.

Kenshin smiled sadly, gently stroking the diary’s pages. It was like she was right next to him when he read her smooth and cultured handwriting. He had never known these things about her, but everything she had written was so like her – a direct view into the past she had always hesitated to show him.

And somehow, even though he hadn’t known these things… it hadn’t mattered. He had still seen her gentleness and strength, her inner struggles and loneliness, and the sheer beauty of her soul. Everything that was her, he had already seen just by watching her and spending time by her side.

He read further, wanting to savor this sweet respite from the agony of reality.

He read of the small joys she had found in her daily routine. He read of her love for her family, how she had learned to cook to connect again with her distant father. He learned of her longing to be ordinary, how she struggled to fit in the narrow place she had been given… and then, he read of her happiness when she had been chosen for marriage.

It was an arranged match, like most marriages among those in her social class were.

Her fiance was a gentle and hardworking young man she had known since childhood. Akira was his name and he was the second son of their family friends. Although their parents had arranged their wedding date for the coming summer, that hadn’t stopped Akira from courting her with gifts, sweet letters, poems, and many chaste visits, and she had loved him for it.

For those few fleeting months, this mysterious, unknown Akira had been the center of her life… but she hadn’t known how to express her feelings.

Kenshin sighed, pausing to tiredly rub his face. He couldn’t even feel jealous anymore. How could he? If she had been so happy, if she had gained the acceptance for which she had yearned… what did it matter that her feelings had been directed towards another man? It was enough to know that there had been someone to stand by her side and bring her happiness. Maybe it would have been better if things had stayed that way – if she had never met _him_.

Almost compelled, Kenshin continued reading, but instead of the romance he expected… he found worries and heartbreak. Despite her best tries, Tomoe hadn’t been able to muster the smiles and laughter Akira had hoped to see from her, and so, when he had heard that the Kyoto Mimawarigumi were recruiting young samurai of rank, Akira had left his fiancee behind and gone to seek achievement in battle.

Unlike the Shinsengumi, the Kyoto Mimawarigumi consisted only of samurai of good status and name. The troop was posh, all strut and show, focused mainly on protecting the wealthy. Frankly, Kenshin hadn’t ever thought much of them, but he had crossed blades with them often enough…

Tomoe had wanted to stop Akira. She had wanted to tell him that he was good enough for her even if he didn’t have anything other than his swordsmanship, now that his elder brother was set to inherit his father’s clinic. He hadn’t listened to her. He had said that before he could be her husband, he needed to have something of his own, something that would make her proud of him.

Then, on the fourth day of the fourth month:

_Today, we received word that Kiyosato Akira has been killed in duty. Though I can hardly believe it, I am filled with regret that I couldn’t stop him from leaving._

“Kiyosato Akira,” Kenshin rasped the syllables out loud, shivers of unease racing down his spine. The name of her fiance… it sounded terribly familiar. He rubbed his brow with his palm, struggling to remember.

He had definitely heard that name before, but where?

_Kiyosato Akira, of the Kyoto Mimawarigumi…_

The realization struck like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, sudden and violent. Kenshin’s eyes shot open as he remembered the young man who had refused to die because he needed to marry his sweetheart. Even when his guts had been spilling on the street, he had struggled desperately to reach for his sword, gurgling those familiar syllables…  

“To... mo... e.”

That man, who had been his greatest failure before her… had been Kiyosato Akira. Tomoe’s fiance.

“It was me,” Kenshin whispered softly, his hand cradling the scar that hadn’t wanted to heal. “I stole Tomoe’s happiness.”

That was why Tomoe had written that she had hated him. That was why she had abandoned her family and come to Kyoto. That was why she had been in contact with those Shogunate assassins. She had truly hated him and wished him dead. Every bit of her pain and loneliness and terrible grief, it was all because of him… and she had forgiven him?

Kenshin was so lost in his shocked realization, that he didn’t notice the presence nearing him or the sound of a door sliding open. It was the soft-spoken remark that pulled him out of his guilt. “Your misfortune in killing her fiance. Her misfortune in falling in love with you. It was just two pieces of bad luck.”

 _That voice! That presence, but it can’t be…_ Kenshin turned to look over his shoulder in a daze, only to see the last person he expected gracing his doorstep.

 _It_ is _him._

_But why is he here?_

_And why now?_

And most importantly, how could he tell the man he respected and had sworn to follow through thick and thin, who he hadn’t seen in over half a year and had presumed missing…to get the fuck out of his house?

Kenshin didn’t want to see anyone. Not now, not when he was feeling like this. He looked aside and swallowed dryly, closing her diary.

“It’s not your fault,” Katsura-san murmured gently. “I heard all about it.”

His ever-present anger sparked into a full, burning rage inside him. _How dare he say this wasn’t my fault?_ _How dare he try to offer me any consolation? No one has the right to say those words! No one! Not when they don’t know the depth of my failures!_ And for that flickering moment, Kenshin _wanted_ to scream, grab his sword and throw it, unleash his rage and extinguish the misspent compassion in his leader’s gaze, turn that trust into gut-wrenching fear and hate.

One by one, Kenshin straightened his tense fingers that were clenching her diary, before exhaling slowly. Then he nodded, just once.

Katsura-san took it as an invitation and stepped inside. “I have already sent someone after the traitor.”

 _A traitor?_ Kenshin blinked, the final piece of the puzzle aligning at last. Yes, of course. Of course there had been someone else. If the Shogunate’s assassins had known where he and Tomoe had escaped in the aftermath of the Great Kyoto fire, they wouldn’t have waited this long. No, they had needed to find out about Otsu from someone in the Ishin Shishi…

“It was Iizuka,” Katsura said solemnly, his voice full of regret. “He sold you out to Bakufu’s Yaminobu. They were afraid of you and wanted to remove the worst threats in Kyoto; you, me, and all the influence I had garnered. Without us, the organized rebel movement fell apart.”

 _So that’s why she left._ _That’s why she thought it was a fight that couldn’t be won…_ Tomoe had known those men would come for them no matter what they did. She hadn’t seen any way out of the trap and still, she had tried to mislead them with lies.

Kenshin bowed his head, staring at the diary in his bandaged hands.

He had trusted Iizuka, hadn’t ever suspected a thing. He would have been blissfully ignorant to the danger no matter how those men would have chosen to attack. What if they had chosen to come when the kids were visiting? What if they had attacked when he was tipsy from sake, good food, and playfully relaxed in his wife’s arms?

_...We never had any chance, did we?_

Fury churned inside him, heavy and deep, dragging forth emotions from the dark corners of his heart. He wanted to shout, rave… _kill_. The spirit rattled against the wall, ready to surge to his side and rain hell on their enemies.

_No, we never had any chance at all._

_The sliver of peace and normal life that we were granted_ – _it was just a dream, nothing more._ Kenshin’s heart skipped a beat, and he shook, tense as a bowstring drawn to the snapping point. If he didn’t do something, anything, he would break from this pressure. His eyes found his sword leaning innocuously against the wall...  

_No, focus! Do you think she would want you to lose it now?_

Katsura-san didn’t seem to notice his difficulties; instead, he merely stood there in the middle of the room, looking at him with that grating compassion in his eyes. “Iizuka will pay for his crimes. I sent my new man after him. The traitor will get his due.”

Kenshin forced himself to let out the breath he was holding.

He couldn’t afford to think of _her_ now. Not when Katsura-san was here. Later, he would have time to deal with his raging emotions. Later, he resolved.

Somehow, he didn’t know how, he managed to climb to his feet and recall the polite niceties she had so patiently taught him. So he bowed and invited Katsura-san to sit just like any other guest, took a moment to find the tea things from the cupboard. His leader had come a long way just for this meeting, the least he could do was to swallow his bile and try his best to focus on the present.

All through the polite routine, Katsura-san kept looking at him oddly. The pity in his eyes felt like salt on Kenshin’s wounds.

Kenshin knew he was miserable sight, he didn’t need the fact to be ground in!

So he prompted, “A new man?”

“Yes,” Katsura-san nodded amiably. “An accomplished swordsman. Shishio Makoto is his name. He was very convincing and undeniably strong with the sword, so I was glad to recruit him. We desperately need strong swordsmen right now.”

“Shishio Makoto…” Kenshin frowned. He had never heard that name before.

“Yes… his origins and techniques are unknown. He’s dangerous, but his skills are on a par with yours,“ Katsura-san explained. He paused for a moment, before adding, “It’s been decided that he will conduct the assassinations from now on.”

Kenshin wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that statement. Though he had been good at it, he hated assassinations. As such, it was a relief that he wasn’t required to kill people in cold blood anymore… but where did that leave him? He hesitated, “So, I’m being retired?”  

“No, you must continue to wield your sword for us. Each day, the Bakufu’s forces are hunting down Ishin Shishi and our supporters in the capital. If no one stands up to them, the total destruction of the rebel movement is inevitable.” Katsura-san’s gaze turned hard as a steel. “Himura, you must protect the Ishin Shishi as a mobile attacker. It’s cruel of me to ask this of you, but there is no one else I can ask to do this. I want you to make your heart bloodthirsty… and wield the sword that soars through the heavens.”

So there it was, at last.

A clear command.

 _…I should have known._ Kenshin sighed, idly caressing her diary, before looking up to meet that calculating gaze. He knew what he was being asked. He knew now all the heartbreak and misery it would bring him. He knew that there were no heroes in the terrible shadow war that Katsura-san planned to unleash in Kyoto for the dream of a new era.

Even then, the only question that mattered was: could he put aside his pain and kill for this man once more?

 

* * *

 

Kido pensively stroked the rim of the inelegant, cheap tea cup in his hands. When he had first laid eyes on the boy, and seen what had become of him during these difficult months, he had been appalled. Dressed in rags, covered in bandages and healing bruises, Kenshin looked like nothing more than a broken shadow of the naive, determined boy he had recruited in Choshuu a bit over a year ago.

It had stung, to know he was responsible for this kind of destruction to a person.

Then the boy had looked up and met his eyes… and for the first time, Kido had seen sheer, unequaled hate in those pale eyes. It had only served to twist the knife in his own sore wounds, because even then that hate wasn’t directed at him, or anyone – it was an aimless emotion stirred up by the tragedy and betrayal that Kenshin and the girl had suffered.

In that moment, Kido had been sure that his trip had been for nothing. Apologies and goodbyes had been on his lips, when somehow the boy – no, the man in front of him had swallowed that overwhelming emotion and welcomed him into his home. To do such a thing, now, after all that he had been through… it had to take an incredible strength of will, and right then, Kido had known that Himura Kenshin was not broken. Suffering, yes. Obviously. But despite everything, he knew that Kenshin could endure all this pain and grief.

And that was something Kido could respect.

He had liked the young, naive, idealistic boy he had met in the Kiheitai. He had found the boy’s wishes for the future and reasons for fighting admirable, but now he realized that he respected this man. There was no doubt about it, he could still lean on Kenshin and his skill with the legendary Hiten Mitsurugi.

It was an unexpected relief. They desperately needed strong fighters for the cause.

The Bakufu had gathered many strong names to their side. Names like Hijikata, Saito, Okita, and many others had brought fame which endeared the Bakufu to the public, turning the tide of opinion against the rebels. The Shinsengumi and Mimawarigumi were now heroes who protected the people in the streets, not the distrusted, dangerous madmen they were once seen as.

For the Ishin Shishi to succeed, they would need a legend of their own within their ranks. A legend, which would sow fear in the hearts of their enemies and bolster the morale of their men. They needed to appear strong, to garner the support they needed for the revolution to succeed.

And unlike any other Choshuu swordsman… Hitokiri Battousai’s name was still whispered in Kyoto. If they could turn that faceless and widely feared name into something more, the Ishin Shishi could take back the Capital and restore the rebel’s ill reputation. So Kido made his offer and waited.

The wait turned into a long, tense silence.

Kenshin didn’t even look up at him, he just stared at the book he held in his hands.

Kido wasn’t sure what to think about it. Should he give Kenshin some time to think it through? Yes, perhaps that would be reasonable. Kenshin was grieving and honestly, he looked like he should still be in his sick bed. With some hesitation, Kido picked up his sword and rose, excusing himself. “I will come back tomorrow. Think on it.”

“I understand,” a soft voice rasped behind his back.

Kido tensed, “Himura…”

Tucking the book inside his kimono folds, Kenshin awkwardly climbed to his feet and made his way to the window to stare outside. “If I abandon the sword now, all the lives I have taken will be for nothing,” Kenshin said, his tone dry and scratchy from disuse. “Tomoe taught me the many small happinesses that people live for. Until there can be an age lit up by those small happiness, I will wield my sword. But when the new age comes… at that time… “

Kido nodded slowly, “You will throw away your sword?”

“I don’t know. But I will never kill again. Never… again,” Kenshin swore softly, his words striking as deep as an oath sworn in blood.

It made Kido’s stomach lurch with guilt and all of a sudden, he remembered what his friend had said to him back during that memorable night in Hagi. Takasugi had claimed that he was going to destroy Kenshin’s life if he took him to Kyoto. And damn it all, he was right. The evidence was right there before his very eyes. He should have seen then that the legendary sword of Hiten Mitsurugi wasn’t meant to destroy the old age, but to protect the new.

“I will wait for you in Kyoto,” Kido said quietly. “Take your time to put your affairs in order.”

He left without looking back.

After all, there was much to do and regrets wouldn’t help anyone. This was just another mistake in the long list of failures to his name. There would be many more, before this was over. The Ishin Shishi needed Kenshin. He knew that and so would others. For a man like him, there was no place for useless sentimentality.

So Kido lifted his chin and walked forward, his head held high.

 

* * *

 

Kenshin felt Katsura-san’s presence leave. He didn’t know what to think, what to feel; it was all too much and he was so tired and empty.

To be perfectly truthful, he needed to really consider what do about Katsura-san’s offer.

It would be difficult to become what they wanted. He would have to kill more and more, not only certain, pre-selected targets, but everyone who the Ishin Shishi needed protection from. Given that Kyoto was firmly under the Bakufu’s control, this meant the Shinsengumi, Mimawarigumi and any other troops that posed a threat: skilled, experienced fighters moving in squadrons.

Yet… in a way, it was almost a relief.

Assassinations had always been difficult. Not in skill, no – attacking in ambush had made most fights very short. However, to see a man or a group of men, decide whether they were _targets_ and then cut them all down without hesitation, it had eaten away at his heart.

Every. Single. Time.

This, well… if he understood correctly, Katsura-san just needed him to fight. There would be more opponents, but if he appeared strong enough, maybe he could do as Master had done at times? Drive them away with the mere threat of fighting and give them a chance to rescue themselves, to give up and run.

Perhaps this new role would be a step closer to the teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi?

Kenshin had always known he would return to the Ishin Shishi. Even Tomoe had known it and accepted it. He still wanted to bring forth the new era. He still believed in Katsura-san…. and Tomoe, in her last letter, she had written that he must survive to fulfill that dream.

If he didn’t go, if he abandoned the sword now, then all the lives he had already taken would have been for nothing.

It was a crossroads of sorts, one that he knew would change his life.

But after hearing of Iizuka’s betrayal…Kenshin was angry, angry enough that he didn’t want anything to do with the Bakufu or the Ishin Shishi. It didn’t help that he knew now that he could do his part just by helping out the people without joining the rebellion. Tomoe had taught him that. However, he had pledged his sword to Katsura-san and Tomoe had accepted that, understood why he was willing to lay down his heart and soul for the cause.

...And if she, too, had thought that a better world, a new era was a cause worth fighting for, he would fight. No matter how much it hurt.

Kenshin couldn’t say how long he stood there, staring out the window. The cold air kept flowing in through the window slits and the lazy heat from the fire pit wasn’t enough to warm up the house. He knew he needed to bar the window, add more wood to the fire before it ran out, and then, “put his affairs in order” like Katsura-san had said.

He sighed.

All these emotions were exhausting. He felt wrung out by them, almost dry… empty. He was aching in body and soul. But he was needed in Kyoto.

It was getting too late to leave tonight; the sun was already setting and it would be a day’s walk to the Capital. The whole day’s walk, if not more, given how difficult and tiring it was to walk with his injuries.

So for tonight, it would be better to rest… to go through their possessions for what he wanted to take with him and make something to eat, Kenshin noted dispassionately as his stomach grumbled. Most of the last week that he had spent convalescing at Midori-san and Kichirou’s house, he had been eating the most disgusting sludge known to man: broth made of peas, blood, and liver to treat his blood loss. He didn’t have the ingredients to try to concoct anything similar now, as the house was just as Tomoe and he had left it on that fateful day.

 _No! Don’t think about it now!_ Kenshin scowled and took a deep breath, reaching to stroke her diary through his kimono folds, where he had secured it against his heart.

Then he started putting a dinner together.

It was a bizarre experience. While he knew how to cook and he knew exactly where everything was stored, he had never once prepared a meal in this house. Tomoe had always done it, it had been her duty and joy. Even now, he could see her touch everywhere around him, in the neat way the ingredients, tools, pans, and bowls had been stored, in the logic of their placement – everything reminded him of her. But somehow, he managed to get the rice boiling, added some dried fish and their own field’s vegetables to the boiling water to soften up. It would do. It wasn’t exactly a fancy meal, but it was what he could easily prepare from the food they had set aside, just in case they were snowed in.   

Eating the bland mush felt wrong. In this house, every meal had been a delight.

It was just a little thing, but all the wrongness was adding up and forcing him to notice it. How everything was just a little bit off kilter, not just in this house, but everywhere, now that Tomoe was not there by his side.

If only he could cry, to let out his hurt…

Kenshin sighed softly and rubbed his eyes. He knew he needed to check his injuries now that the house was warm enough to undress. Reluctantly, he slipped out of his sleeves and methodically unwound the bandages around his torso. The deeper wounds in his shoulders hadn’t opened during his trek home, and the stitches had held up well enough. He grimaced, noting how the healing skin had grown around the yarn. It was well past time to remove them. However, it wasn’t like he could do such a thing alone, least of all to the long cuts in his back...  

_I need to find another damn doctor in Kyoto, don’t I?_

It felt disgusting to wrap the stained bandages around the wounds, but he didn’t have better replacements. Besides, if he hadn’t died yet from infection, fever, and his bout of unconsciousness, how likely was he to die now? The wounds would keep till later.

So for now, what he needed was warm clothes, some travel food, and a blanket just in case he needed to sit down and rest midway. Thick socks and mittens too, Kenshin noted wryly; if his raw and hurting fingers and toes froze again, he could really lose them.

Rummaging through their drawers and chest in search of everything he needed felt wrong, no matter how necessary. It was dark outside when he was done. However, his travel bundle was already getting somewhat large and heavy, and he still needed to decide what other things he should take.

Tomoe’s ashes, shawl, and her diary, definitely – those he wouldn’t leave for any reason. After all, he needed to arrange a gravesite for her at a proper Buddhist temple in Kyoto. She deserved a good spot where she could be remembered.

But the rest? Those decisions were more difficult. Tomoe’s clothes, her embroidery kit, the mirror he had bought her, the comb she had used to brush his hair…

Kenshin bit his lip, trailing his fingers on the comb. On a whim, he shoved it into his travel bundle. She had liked his hair. Maybe he could learn to look after it better, keep it long and neat for her sake.

But the thing was, there were so many things that she had liked, that she had used to make this modest little house her own. Everything, absolutely everything here reminded him of her and he couldn’t take all of this with him. Even if he hired a carriage, it simply wasn’t practical to keep them all. Kyoto was a turbulent city and under Katsura-san’s command, he would have to move on a moment's notice, travel light.

So what should he do?

Kenshin wandered around the house, deep in thought. He kept touching things, remembering happier times. Here they had shared those nights of passion, here they had bathed each other, here they had shared sake, here they had simply sat together, relaxing in each other’s company…

It was almost soothing.

Until he opened his eyes to see nothing but shadows and empty spaces, because she was not there anymore.

Sometime later, he came across an old thing he hadn’t needed for months – Kasumi’s top. At the sight of it, Kenta rattled against the wall separating them, but Kenshin pointedly ignored it, wanting to be left alone.

The top was as it had always been, a simple wooden toy. A remembrance. He had used it as a way to remember why he fought, but now… it didn’t mean anything to him anymore. He fought for Tomoe, for the small happinesses that she had taught him to appreciate, and he had her diary to remember her by. What use would he have anymore for one old toy?

_Nothing, that’s what._

It was a child’s toy… and he was not a child anymore.

On the impulse, without stopping to think, Kenshin threw it into the flames of the fire pit. The dry wood blackened slowly, before starting to burn.

_Good._

The fire was cleansing. It would burn away all the memories, both the bad and the good. Besides, hadn’t his resolve to fight in the revolution been born in fire?

_Yes. That’s right._

The flames danced and Kenshin sat down to watch them.

Inevitably, his thoughts wandered back to Tomoe. He took her diary from his kimono folds and opened it, leafing through the pages. He still couldn’t understand why she had chosen to forgive him, why she had placed her faith in him and sacrificed herself to save him. But in her letter, she had written… oh, yes, there it was again: _You will kill again, my love. You won’t do it out of your own desire, but to protect, to save many more than you slay. I forgive you._

How could she say that?

How could she see so far?

Idly, he let his eyes wander over her handwriting, turning the pages and reading, trying to see what she had seen in him. Even when they had first met, he had been nothing but a sad, broken mockery of a man, unworthy of her attention.

But reading her view on events – oh gods, it hurt, it hurt so much.

She had written of her hate, her desire for revenge, and how it had given her the strength to travel from Edo to Kyoto. It had taken her several weeks to travel those 350 miles without supplies, without money. She had had to work hard at every little village she had stopped in for food, drink, and shelter. At times, she had even had to beg, abandon all her pride just to keep going. And when she had finally made it to Kyoto, she had wandered the streets for days, looking for news and rumors… until she stumbled across a man in black, who had given her a way to get close to Akira’s killer, the terrible murderer Hitokiri Battousai.

It hadn’t been an accident that she had been in that bar that night. No, from the very beginning she had known who he was... but his actions had perplexed her. She hadn’t expected him to defend her from those harassing brutes. And when she had followed him and seen him kill that assassin, she had been _sure_ he would kill her, that it was all over.

But when he hadn’t, she had followed him around, watching him, all the while becoming increasingly confounded – because in her eyes, he had been a child given a sword to wield, not the terrible murderer she expected. A child can’t be a killer, least of all this kind-hearted, shy, and awkward boy, she had written. Their discussions and arguments had led her to question her hate, until she could see past her grudge and first impressions to his strength, idealism, kindness, and hope for a better world.

It felt like he was reading her observations on another person, on someone decent and worthy of respect.

And then, in the Great Kyoto fire, after the Ikeda-ya and the Hamaguri gate rebellion, she had realized she loved him.

_So it was then for her, too..._

Something was squeezing his throat, blocking his ability to breathe. Oh gods, he loved her. So much.

But he continued to read, despite the hurt.

In Otsu, she had forgotten about the revenge, the plots, betrayals, and hate, and decided to live in the present – in their small paradise. She had hoped it would never end. He read of their forays into intimacy, how she had loved every single time, even that embarrassing and awkward first kiss. He read how she had hoped that they could share even more, grow closer… sleep together truly, not separated by their private fears and ghosts. How she had fallen deeper and deeper in love, how they had healed each other, until she, too, learned to smile.   

_It’s so true._

A hiccup rose up from his chest and Kenshin blinked dazedly. He couldn’t see. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and wondered why it became wet.

_...And still, despite our happiness, those bastards in black came for us._

_If not for that traitor Iizuka…_ Anger stirred in his veins again. Kenshin gritted his teeth, wanted to hit something.

_But if she had…_

_No!_

_No matter what, the Yaminobu would have come for us._

If those bastards hadn’t let go of their mission after half a year’s respite, they were never going to. Men like them, they were like blood hounds, unrelenting and cruel in their chase.

_But could I have protected her, if she hadn’t left? If they had chosen to attack us in our house?_

Kenshin took a deep breath and let it go slowly, staring blindly at the ceiling. He knew it was useless to second guess her choices. She hadn’t known of his abilities, or the the extent to which those men had used her. She had done her best, trying to protect him and her little brother.

And to be honest, even he hadn’t known there was a place like the Forest of Barriers. It had been an elaborate trap, carefully planned to stack the odds against him.

Yet the worst failures of all were his own. He had failed her that day in so many ways. He should have told her the truth, convinced her to trust him more… or at least, made sure not to strike blindly during that last, desperate charge.

In that cursed forest, he hadn’t _thought_. The same anger that burned in his veins now, had fueled him then, and in his fury, he had been stupid, vicious, and cruel. He had left himself wide open not once, but several times, fighting recklessly. He had allowed the bastards to run circles around him and lead him head first into their dirty tricks.    

In that cursed forest, he had been over-confident and _stupid_.

That day, he had made every mistake that he could have. He hadn’t been a student worthy of Hiten Mitsurugi and even worse… he had become someone that Tomoe would have hated. She had despised the thought of the cold-blooded murderer Hitokiri Battousai, who had robbed her of her happiness. And in that forest, he had become worse than any of the rumors in Kyoto had ever painted him to be.  

Kenshin felt ashamed.

In his anger, in his fury, not only he had failed to protect her… he had become something she would have hated.

He was a failure, a disappointment… utterly unworthy of her regard.

And he had killed her.

The ki stirred like a thunder storm all around him as Kenta rattled itself against the wall that separated them, stroking and prodding, desperately trying to reach him, and for the first time since he had awoken in his sick bed, Kenshin allowed it to.

With Kenta… he was numb and cold. When it was at his side, he could think, push aside his emotions, his anger, grief and pain.

In that cursed forest, he had made so many mistake because he hadn’t been able to think, he had been too angry to realize it. And now that he would return to the madness of the rebellion in Kyoto, he would have to kill again. He would have to kill and kill and kill.

She wouldn’t have liked it, but she had understood – it was for the new era, so that all the sacrifices made for it wouldn’t be for nothing.

For the longest time, during the terrible, dark months that he had been falling into madness, trying to become Hitokiri Battousai, Kenta had been wanting to join him. He hadn’t allowed it then, because he had needed the comfort it offered to ward off his loneliness.

He had been a child.

A weak child, who desperately needed someone to lean on.

With Tomoe, he had grown as a person. He hadn’t just leaned on her strength, he had _learned_ from it. She had been everything to him and he had loved her so much. But before her, there had been the spirit, Kenta.

It felt horrible to realize, but during these past few months he had grown up. He hadn’t _needed_ Kenta anymore. He had avoided thinking of Kenta, because he had Tomoe.

Kenta had been his closest and most trusted friend, his only friend for all these years. But somehow, he had grown past his need for its company.

Even before he had met Tomoe, he had hardly talked with Kenta.

He didn’t even know if he could anymore... or if he wanted to.

The realization twisted his gut; he truly was despicable. No only had he killed his most important person with his own two hands, he had discarded his best friend, too.

 _Anger. Fury._ ‘Alone.’

The mixture of emotions and words sent his way struck him by surprise. Kenshin gasped, trying to make sense of them.

Kenta didn’t wait, but sent him a memory of the moment when he had found the map to the forest and the rage that had awoken in him – and how Kenta had stirred from its sleep and rushed to help him, only to be pushed aside.  

_That’s…_

‘Together. Not alone.’

Kenshin swallowed dryly, finally realizing what Kenta had been trying to make him understand all this time. It was part of him now. He didn’t need it as a separate being.

_…I don’t deserve anyone’s love or loyalty anymore._

His self-deprecating thought raised distinct disapproval from the spirit, and it rubbed against the wall, in the _petting comfort feel_ motion, and Kenshin tried to smile weakly, utterly overwhelmed by the sheer love it sent his way.  

_I have been really selfish, haven’t I?_

Kenta _wanted_ to be part of the whole, not a separate fragment lurking behind the wall. Besides, all the successes they had gained, in their training and with ki, in their many battles…all those had been because they were a team.

Alone… he had failed.

Alone, he had tried to save Tomoe and instead, ended up being saved by her. Alone, he had killed her. With his own two hands, he had killed her.

If Kenta had been with him, maybe they could have saved her. If not for his stupidity and selfishness, Tomoe could still be alive.

Slowly, carefully, Kenshin felt the wall between him and Kenta and realized that it wasn’t a wall, not really. It was just something blocking the spirit from joining with his ki. Gritting his teeth together, Kenshin started to pull apart the last pieces holding the wall together. It was a small and frail construct, a remnant… and yes, there was the hole he had dug through it back when he had been a child.  

The emotions and flickers of memory that formed the wall… Kenshin didn’t even stop to feel them. They wouldn’t help him, not anymore.

And then, when there was nothing left but the last few dregs, nothing left to hide behind, he retreated to his side and left himself wide open.

Kenta _surged_ over the border.

It was cold, so cold, and it was far too much at once… like air blown into a child’s paper balloon, and it filled him, stretching him to his limit and beyond and oh gods, it hurt. But it was nothing compared to the knowledge that he had killed Tomoe, the one whom he loved the most, with his own two hands. He had LOVED her and he had killed her with his failure, selfishness, stupidity, weakness, and arrogance.

He really was nothing.

But now…

He was numb.

And no longer was he two pieces of a whole, but only this one.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Betaed by Animaniacal-laughter in 13.05.2016.
> 
> (The story will continue in Book 3. This isn't the end of this story, never fear!)


End file.
